


A Genius and an Idiot

by BurningQuarantime



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Anxiety Attacks, First Kiss, Fluff and Angst, Hurt/Comfort, Idiots in Love, Kuroken if you squint, M/M, Misunderstandings, Shenanigans, Slow Burn, no beta we die like men
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-16
Updated: 2020-05-16
Packaged: 2021-03-03 06:00:42
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 12
Words: 22,606
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24220054
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BurningQuarantime/pseuds/BurningQuarantime
Summary: I thought I knew you,Tadashi thought desperately,Better than anyone. Better thanmyself. We’re best friends but what the hell are you talking about I don’t even know why we’re having this conversation right now-“… but if the answer is yes, then I’ll say yes. See? Simple.”“Tsukki, wha…”“…”Deep breath. Try again.“Why are you bringing this up…?”You never bring ANYTHING up, never anything personal never anything important that’s like the cardinal Tsukki Rule and you BROKE it what is going onHis best friend was still just chilling on the grassy hill, legs out in front of him, resting his body weight on one long arm bent behind his back. Tsukki’s face remained completely, 100% neutral above his scarf. If Tadashi didn’t know otherwise, he’d say this unprecedented discussion (that Tsukki initiated!!) was just a casual comment about something mildly interesting, andTadashiwas the one going insane.
Relationships: Tsukishima Kei & Yamaguchi Tadashi, Tsukishima Kei/Yamaguchi Tadashi
Comments: 13
Kudos: 117
Collections: Jazz's Haikyuu Favs





	1. Chapter 1

_I thought I knew you,_ Tadashi thought desperately, _Better than anyone. Better than_ myself _. We’re best friends but what the hell are you talking about I don’t even know why we’re having this conversation right now-_

“… but if the answer is yes, then I’ll say yes. See? Simple.”

“Tsukki, wha…”

“…”

 _Deep breath. Try again._ “Why are you bringing this up…?”

_You never bring ANYTHING up, never anything personal never anything important that’s like the cardinal Tsukki Rule and you BROKE it what is going on_

His best friend was still just chilling on the grassy hill, legs out in front of him, resting his body weight on one long arm bent behind his back. Tsukki’s face remained completely, 100% neutral above his scarf. If Tadashi didn’t know otherwise, he’d say this unprecedented discussion (that Tsukki initiated!!) was just a casual comment about something mildly interesting, and _Tadashi_ was the one going insane.

_I’ve spent my whole life trying to understand you I thought I DID understand you_

All previous datapoints – 8 carefully hoarded and cherished moments in time – necessitated that Tsukkishima Kei should be giving away Major Vibes right now: uncomfortable, flustered, Dead Serious, vulnerable - but he wasn’t! Didn’t he realize that there always have been and always should be Major Vibes accompanying a breach of Tsukki privacy?? _Tsukkivacy?_

Apparently not. Tadashi’s question didn’t even earn a Glasses Readjustment, so Tsukki had completely anticipated it.

“You were wondering why I turned Alluka-chan down.”

_I mean, YEAH, duh yep I was, but I wasn’t gonna pry! I was just planning on forgetting about it until the next confession like normal???_

Tadashi’s brain literally hurt as it continued its doomed hunt for words. Any words. Preferably words that would stall the conversation until he actually knew what he wanted to say. Brains take up a lot of energy, and he could feel himself getting breathless with the effort.

_It’s not fair!! I am SO NOT PREPARED to be speaking about THIS, right NOW, right after you said something so WEIRD did I even hear you correctly I need to think and maybe journal I think this is like a Spiral Notebook level processing event and it’s happening right now and will never happen again I’m gonna have so many questions for you later but by then it’ll be too late what do I ask what do I say_

Distantly, he heard his own voice begin a distant protest of “But – but Tsukki –”

_GREAT IDEA voice, I AM NOT READY TO SPEAK AHHHH – wait, I might actually be onto something there!! Tadashi, you can salvage this!_

“Lots of girls ask you out, all the time. Haha,” The world brightened a little. There were pigeons in the sky and cold pointy bits of small rocks mixed in with the short grass under Tadashi’s hands. A crisp cold breeze carried the distant sounds of the entire middle school besides them having a normal afternoon. Relief at the smooth(ish) save flooded his system. _This is a great point to bring up!_

...also, embarrassment; there were light pieces of lint lining Tadashi’s dark green gloves and the whole world now narrowed down towards just picking those off one by one.

_This is such a personal conversation. We’ve never actually talked about this before Tsukki._

“You always turn them down when they confess, I guess I never understood why?” _Still talking, yep you’ve got this. Why_ would _Tsukki_ _see_ _Alluka-chan any differently from the others?_ “I mean, it makes sense that you wouldn’t want to go out with a stranger – even if she is pretty. But I think Alluka was the first girl to ask you out who we actually knew? And she’s pretty and smart plus she likes your sense of humor, hahaaa” _Nice going, you just answered your own question. Iiiidiot._

Tadashi’s brain, full of jittery, nervous energy, now foolishly chose to dedicate a cool 80% of its remaining capabilities towards examining the gloves. Why was the lint on the gloves like a light gray color anyways? Does lint come from other clothes in the dryer? _But have I ever even washed these? I don’t think I have, does that mean the lint is actually tiny threads from the gloves coming undone and balling up? But wait that would mean they made the gloves from gray_ and _green threads, but it looks just dark green to me why would they do that? Tsukki would know I should ask him right away he’ll –_

 _Oh crap, I didn’t ask him a question. No more once-in-a-lifetime conversation for you, Tadashi._ Another deep breath, then back to watching Tsukki, who’s probably turned away because the conversation is over now.

_!!!HAAAHHHH!!!_

Tadashi’s heart thudded with a skidding kind of shock as he glanced up and met Tsukki’s eyes directly. Tsukki’s eyes, which had clearly _not_ looked away at all like they were supposed to. Tsukki’s eyes, intense and scrutinizing and conveying a Dead Seriousness behind faint reflections of budding trees.

 _He’s still making eye contact!!_ _Important Conversation, whoops my bad mybad my BAD. What do I say?? Guess I’ll just keep talking, he wants to make sure I understand something right but joke’s on him I DON’T UNDERSTAND ANYTHING just talk before you mess this conversation up Tadashiii_

“Eeerrrrmm are you saying it’s important that you get confessed to traditionally? You usually don’t like it when people are super polite with you, huh Tsukki? But I guess this is really personal and about feelingsandstuffand it’s – uh – important to ask it the right way??”

Crisis mode continued to rage on, sirens blaring and all cylinders firing, in Tadashi’s brain. _Now you’re asking TOO MANY questions, he’ll never answer them at all!!_

The staredown continued. Tsukki’s hair was ruffling just a tiny bit in the breeze, and his exhales were just barely fluffing up that stylish auburn scarf. _What do you want me to say I don’t understand this I don’t know how you feel about any of this Tsukki_

_DAMMIT TADASHI you just said the exact wrong thing, you LITERALLY just watched a textbook traditional confession he’s waiting for you to realize that!_

“Ah!” Oh interesting, there was a really smooth rock kinda nearby Tadashi’s ankle, “Or maybe you’re saying that if someone, like, took the time to get to know you they wouldn’t be so traditional? Because they would already know you well enough to know you don’t like formalities?”

 _Incredible,_ Tadashi’s brain thought towards his mouth, _That actually makes sense._

“Because – I mean – when you really like someone you try to notice everything about them, right Tsukki?”

_“Right, Tsukki??” What the hell, Tadashi, how can you be so brave yet so stupid? Fix it, you’re getting off track!_

“-uhhhhhhmmmm-” Running out of breath, Tadashi spared another glance towards Tsukki. Still looking. And still looking intense. _UHHMM_

“So, like, if Alluka-chan genuinely liked you, she would guess that you took feelings seriously and confess traditionally, with chocolates,” which she _had_ , but then Tsukki had rejected her because… because…? “But – she would also know that you don’t like formalities, so she would –” Tadashi floundered for a precarious second, so _sooo_ close to the end of this taxing chain of critical thinking “– put her own spin on it…?”

_That doesn’t sound like Tsukki at all._

The Tsukkishima in question was still looking. His eyebrows had furrowed, just a tiny bit, as though experiencing a mild sympathy for poor, confused little Tadashi. 

Silence – and not the comfortable kind. It felt like blurting out the wrong answer in class: Mrs. Fukidima no longer waiting on a correct answer, just an explanation for how in the world Young Yamaguchi had arrived at the wrong one. A lingering sense of shame pervaded Tadashi’s sense of _wrongness._

_I thought I knew you better than anyone in the world, but I’m completely lost here Tsukki. You want me to understand but I don’t. I’m the worst friend I’m sorry I’m just the worst_

_Deep breath. Just try again._

“Why chocolate oranges, Tsukki?” Because that was it, really, the driving question, the epicenter of the insanity and the confusion. And now Tadashi’s question - which was way too blunt, way too revealing of his own inadequacy - was out in the open, practically demanding a response. No taking it back. Inwardly, his heart clenched and outwardly, his hand tightened its grip on the back of his own neck.

_You obviously thought I’d understand why you chose them but I DON’T. I KNOW they’re not your favorite. I’ve paid attention to you for 7 years and you’ve never once even mentioned them! Oranges aren’t funny or romantic, is it a pun somehow? Is there science involved? It obviously makes perfect sense to you but you’re a GENIUS and AMAZING and I’m miles behind you. I wish I knew you as well as you think I do._

But Tadashi - aka _a bad friend,_ aka _the worst -_ could be brave. It wasn’t too hard; nothing was scarier than what he had just implied, and he hadn’t even known he was going to say it. So: keeping Tsukki’s face in view it was. He had to know how disappointed Tsukki was in him; had to search his achingly familiar face for answers even while gritting his teeth against his own failure.

Questions directed to Tsukki fell into two categories, and they both knew which one the tall fourteen-year-old liked more. Unfortunately, Tadashi was currently a) panicking and b) a bad friend; ergo, he had somehow forgotten to lob a “huh, Tsukki?” or a “right, Tsukki?” into this delicate, uncomfortable, impossible conversation. No, no, Yamaguchi Tadashi had just hit Tsukkishima Kei with a straight-up “WHY” question about a _forbidden topic. I AM DEAAAAADDD._

A Glasses Readjustment was occurring. Even Tsukki needed a moment to process how inconsiderate Tadashi could be. The moment revealed everything: the tense shoulder indicating yep, Tadashi had gone and made him uncomfortable. Two fingers, so he was definitely stressed way the heck out. And – _yikes_ – the eyebrow crease plus tiny full-face wince. The dreaded _“I-Don’t-Know-How-to-Answer-You-Yamaguchi”_ pause.

And for once, Tsukki really _didn’t_ seem to have an answer. The Glasses Readjustment passed, and he pursed his lips a little bit and swallowed just before raising his head. He was looking off towards the cafeteria now with a sort of clenched jaw? That face… Tadashi didn’t really know what to make of that face. It was still mostly neutral. Like 75% neutral plus, like, tension? 

“…”

What was he going to say?? Tadashi couldn’t even begin to guess. What had just been revealed about Tsukki’s innermost workings defied all logic, broke all of the rules. Tsukki was supposed to like logic and rules. He wasn’t supposed to base any life choices around Chocolate Oranges of all things. So _wh_ _at the hell??_

_“……”_

_Hooollllyyyyyyyyy he’s not going to answer??? That was a WHY question, you have to answer me Tsukki those are the rules!_

“…………”

_WHAT IS HAPPENING_

“………………”

The once-in-a-lifetime “Tsukkishima Kei Shares Insights Into His Thought Process RE: Romance” conversation was over before it had even really begun. Moment number 9 in their shared log of Deep Talks. The only moment to come unprompted, in public, in the middle of a random February afternoon. The only conversation in their long history initiated with the sole purpose of sharing a snippet of Tsukki’s most private thoughts with his friend. The only time in living memory when talking with Tsukki had felt like a test. 

And Tadashi had failed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *Places a hand over the eyes of my high school English awards as I brutally butcher the language in an alleyway*


	2. Chapter 2

“ _I’ll be right here_.” That was the last thing Tadashi had said to Tsukki. The words – warbling, wavering, now surely forgotten by their recipient – echoed over and over around the back chambers of his mind as he waited. Each repetition imbued them with added significance, as though they were a portension of some meaningful truth. Tadashi didn't know what that might be - other than their obvious current and general dynamic- but he found it easy enough to hold onto them tightly all the same. He had to, after all, in order to properly hate those undertones of nervous laughter. He should have sounded more confident and steadfast; “ _I’ll be right here_ ” had been important because… What, because Tsukki needed the reminder? Were those the last words he said to Tsukkishima Kei before he stopped being single forever? _What if they were the last words I EVER got to say to Tsukki that would be terrible oh my god how long has it been anything could happen_

Deep breath. Try again. “Today’s been pretty bad, huh?” There was absolutely nothing wrong with chatting to yourself while waiting for a childhood best friend by the front gates. Tadashi had never understood why people like Hinoka in Class 3 had such major reactions to the idea. Didn’t they ever need to take a step back from their thoughts? Honestly, if talking to himself made Tadashi self-conscious, he would probably explode. “Count your blessings,” as the same annoyance in Class 3 always said.

It was March 17th, and the day had been super normal. Suuuper normal. A bit humid. Math class had sucked more than usual, but he had gotten some great receives in during volleyball practice. Now he and Tsukki were going to walk home (like normal) and continue their daily routines (like normal).

Tadashi squinted, irritated, at the railing by his elbow. Jagged strips of peeling yellow paint were revealing the dull gray metal they were meant to hide. All his years of life experience informed him that the metal would leave his hands smelling strange if he touched it. Damned if he knew what kind of metal it was. It was just metal, okay? _It’s boring. Also it’s not the kind of thing Tsukki would want to talk about anyways._

Tsukki, of course, had strolled away and left him here. No heads up; no announcement; no known destination. Just a wordless handing off of his schoolbag – with direct eye contact, an audible intake of breath ( _a reverse sigh? A Tsukkisigh?_ ), and a head tilt so small only Tadashi could have seen it. Probably nonverbal for “ _I know you’ll stay here, Yamaguchi”_?

The ugly yellow railing was the kind with another bar halfway between the handrail and the ground. Last week, Somata-san had dove right through that rectangle of space, showing off his aim and technique. It had been just a few yards over though, where the sidewalk came up and intersected the main corridor, and Tadashi had been impressed that the libero had landed on the little triangle of grass there. Right now, picking artlessly at some flaking edges, he found himself still faintly impressed.

Nah, there had definitely been something _searching_ in Tsukki’s eyes before he left. That head tilt too. Was it a _“You seem kinda stressed out, Yamaguchi”_? No way; Tadashi was always stressed out, and Tsukki knew it. How about a “ _Do you seriously not know where I’m going?”_ which was just unfair, Hypothetical Tsukki!! Obviously, Tadashi had noticed that tall, mysterious girl approach him during the substitute’s roll call. He hadn’t been in earshot, but he could still put together that his best friend was currently off being confessed to. However, a strange girl like that could have chosen a number of locations. _I’d have to be a mind-reader to guess where exactly, right Tsukki?_

As long as it wasn’t a _“Are you thinking about our last conversation about confessions, Yamaguchi?”_ , Tadashi figures they should be okay.

And lo and behold!! It had only been like 5 minutes, and Tsukki was coming back already! Tadashi dusted his metallic-smelling hands against his pants, suddenly self-conscious. Tsukki was alone and it had been as short as ever, so…?

There was a script here: heft Tsukki’s heavy bag off the ground by the left strap, grin until he approaches, perform the tradeoff, then accompany your best friend in silence as though no interruptions had ever taken place. The script had been in place since the very first Afterschool Confession Event, when they were both a whole head shorter. It had been instated by a flustered, speechless, shy past version of himself, yet had stood its ground unchanged through all 4 of its uses.

It was going wrong, somehow, today. 

The heavy strap was flat against Tadashi’s hand, grin halfway set onto his face, when Tsukki’s body language came into focus. Tsukki’s role in the script was to keep to the right-hand side of the walkway (well, Tadashi’s left), hands in his pockets, mouth sort of scrunched off to one side, eyes downcast and half-lidded, and walk at a loping sort of pace, as though to run straight into Tadashi. That was what a younger version of Tsukki had done, the first time, and what every subsequent version had done as well. It was why Tadashi always grabbed the left strap and did that little spin to get out of the way during the bookbag tradeoff.

Present Tsukki was just ever so slightly… not doing that. He was carrying a dark blue box in one hand and walking along the sunlit corridor at casual speeds. His face and shoulders seemed genuinely relaxed. He was definitely like a whole foot away from the railing, and his free arm was swinging loosely down by his side. If Tadashi held utterly still, Tsukki was going to shoulder-check him.

Tadashi’s mind thoughtfully took in these small details, smashed them against the steps of their time-honored dance, and screamed. Today sucked.

 _I’m gonna roll with this though,_ his inner voice fiercely declared, _Just take a step to the right and we’ll be back in position._

Approximately 15% of his brain's processing power sped off to go tell his feet to go do that, while 10% worked on tightening up his smile and the remaining 75% commenced a flurry of _oh my god did you say yes to her, Tsukki?? Those are dark chocolates, how did she guess you love those?! Is that what made you happy Tsukki? Are you happy?? You look relaxed but I don’t know I don’t know what if it was just less stressful than normal or someth-_

“You said no then, Tsukki?”

_WHAT THE HECK TADASHI you were supposed to move to the right and fix everything, now you’ve completely screwed it up! You already knew he said no because he always says no now he’s gonna think you’re the WORST friend who doesn’t even know THAT about him  
_

Tsukki did look happy! Was that a teeny tiny bounce in his step just then?? It was!! You could tell by looking at his really, really long stretched shadow on the ground behind him. _If you stood that thing up, it would touch the ceiling easy. It would probably hit its head on those cages around the lights. Why are there cages around the lights?? Do they actually think students are going to try to steal the lightbulbs? Wait –_

“How did you guess?” Monotone but teasing yay! Tsukki was only two yards away, but he was slowing his pace, raising his eyebrows, and smirking his classic _“Let’s keep this conversation alive, Yamaguchi”_ smirk. A teacher pulled a door closed behind him, shutting out a view of the pastel paper flowers he had glued to the inside. For some reason, Tadashi was tempted to keep the instructor in view and track him through the dust-covered classroom windows as he moved towards the stacks of spare chairs in the back.

Tadashi felt his grin grow wider, not only mirroring but amplifying Tsukki’s Relaxed Vibe. Yeah, cool the question had been rigged, but it was still a great feeling to get it right! And this was an easy follow up one too! _“Lucky guess”_ or “ _My network of spies told me”_ would both work, but so would the more honest “ _Because you always turn them down” (even though I have no idea why)_. _Whoops, that felt, woah, just a little bit too much let’s go with lighthearted –_

And Tadashi’s brave, foolhardy voice, which had gotten them into this (luckily great but almost disastrous!) situation in the first place, prepared for everyone’s enjoyment a playful: “I don’t see any orange-shaped chocolate!”

There wasn’t even any time to panic: Tsukki’s smile was immediate. At this point of course he was _right there_ , so close that you could see the amber hues of the sky flashing off of his glasses and superimposed on the glossy reflection of his eyes themselves underneath. White teeth and a fond exhale and his shoulders dropped just a fraction _more._ SUPER RELAXED TSUKKI.

 _EHHHHHHH,_ Tadashi’s brain bluescreened.

From there, the bookbag tradeoff and subsequent walk home did end up being _normal_ … in a numb kind of way. Intermittent silence and comments about the snow melting off the mountains felt equally muffled; soft in the damp evening air. His brain stayed stubbornly off the entire time, for which he was _eternally_ grateful. The problem at hand was definitely one of “journal-your-stream-of-consciousness-into-a-spiral-notebook-while-muttering-and-forgeting-about-your-English-assignment” proportions.

Highlights from his scribbling that night included:

Chocolate Oranges =

  * Joke?
  * Literal?
  * Symbolic?
  * Random codeword?
  * A-OK to mention?
  * Common knowledge?
  * Secret?
  * Reference? 
    * Science?
    * Poetry?
    * Pun?
    * Movie quote?
    * Book?
    * Brand?
    * Person?
    * Tsukki??
  * Romantic?
  * Unromantic?
  * Tasty?
  * Inside joke now??
  * Excuse to turn down everyone??
  * Fate / luck / prophecy / soulmate??



There were just so many question marks. Tadashi stayed up late into the night reading everything anyone had every written about orange chocolate balls and neglecting his English homework entirely.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Like what you're reading? Please kudos and comment; I am paid in compliments!


	3. Chapter 3

She was really, reaallly pretty. Drop dead gorgeous. Probably actually a model. She didn’t so much as _walk_ as _figure skate_ through the halls. Tadashi wasn’t even interested in girls, really, and even _he_ could pick out The Redhead from a crowd (the ultra-curly red hair gave her away).

She – _“Youie-san”_ Tsukki had named her, with neither inflection or expression – wasn’t in their year, or else Tadashi would have either seen her at assemblies or been subjected to endless gossip about her in class. So, The Redhead Youie-san, with her crocheted bracelets and Native-American-looking tiny backpack, was not only older than them but self-confident enough to take a gamble on dating a random first-year without even knowing his name.

She had floated over from out of the blue at lunch, like a dandelion caught on the summerspring breeze, like a slightly-hoarse ginger angel come to hand out blessings, and the first words out of her mouth had been, “Could I borrow your friend for a minute, honey?”

Tadashi’s brain had lagged a bit from the strain of suddenly processing the words of a stranger, so he ended up sort of shrugging as he stood up in lieu of speaking. After the interpretation of The Redhead’s words – _here to see Tsukki_ – came recognition – _oh! I’ve seen you around! –_ followed by an instinctual ocular movement towards her bag, her hands _– the hell? Is that a wicker basket?_

“I’ll be over by Kageyama-san, Tsukki,” Tadashi mumbled, his brain divided between the many tasks of standing up, orienting himself, checking for golden foil in the strange basket – _just white boxes, better luck next time_ – scanning for a trashcan along his planned route to his friends, and generally processing the sudden change in his routine.

Kageyama and Hinata were easy to spot and easier to stand awkwardly next to thanks to their lunchtime tradition of tossing a volleyball back and forth for 40 minutes before stuffing their faces for the remaining 5. By the time Tadashi reached them, Hinata was already making Direct Eye Contact with his Huge Brown Eyes and babbling about “Tsukkishima’s new girlfriend!” Behind him, there was a bee flying between an abandoned bento box and Kageyama, who was directing a disinterested and annoyed scowl down at his boxed milk. Tadashi grinned and powered on his mental autopilot.

Step One. Pretend you don’t know if Tsukki will say yes or no in order to PERFECTLY HIDE that you know he’ll turn her down.

Step Two. Act vaguely sheepish about it, since it’s still a personal matter and Tsukki won’t appreciate it if people start to think they can talk to him about those.

Step Three. Apologize for the intrusion to Kageyama, who still looks peeved. _Even though we all know that it’s Youie-san who did the intruding today._

Step Four. Chill nearby, but awkwardly. _I actually like you guys a lot; I just want to make sure that Tsukki feels encouraged to come over here too._

Step Five. Fully appreciate Relaxed Tsukki as he turns around the corner and walks your way. _I guess I never realized how stressful getting asked out could be. I still don’t understand your Chocolate Orange rule, but it sure helped you a lot, didn’t it Tsukki? Did you make up the Chocolate Orange rule before or after Alluka? Did somehow telling it to me make it real?_

The relaxation had to be cherished, of course, because it was gone the moment Hinata noticed Tsukki coming. Tadashi cheerfully stepped aside as the little guy went bounding over, volleyball in hand and babbling nonstop Category 1 questions. _Yikes. Poor dude doesn’t even have a chance._ Tsukki wasn’t about to allow that kind of probing into his personal affairs anytime soon, for sure.

 _Ha,_ Tadashi's brain chipped in over the sound of Hinata's pestering, _As if one could simply_ stop _cherishing Tsukki right now._ It was the spiky hair, surely, that he needed to etch into his memories; no, it was those massive headphones, decorating that unfair neckline. Or maybe that pair of condescending, half-lidded eyes sparkling down in amusement at crushing Hinata’s overenthusiasm. Everything about Tsukki was so pretty - _no, I mean,_ _he’s objectively perfect is what I’m getting at, oh man._ Someone had once again forgotten to remind his heartrate that this line of thought – _Calm, factual! Just observing!!_ – was highly Forbidden.

Kageyama's sudden, loud slurp through a straw behind him jolted Tadashi out of his inner struggle for just a moment, and he refocused to find that Tsukki had lifted his gaze their way. The two friends made eye contact straight over Hinata’s head, making Tadashi feel almost physically loaded down with the special significance it bore. It was an Important Look; surely, one that Tsukkishima Kei would only ever share with his best friend and confidante.

Minutes ago, Tsukki had been alone with a Drop-Dead-Gorgeous, Wicker-Basket-Carrying Angel. She would have said something kind and original in her husky voice, confidently raising her chin to hold his gaze. And Tadashi’s best friend in the world, poised on the razor-thin line between two alternate futures, had made the monumental decision with only one factor in mind.

_No Chocolate Orange, no deal._

It was Tadashi and Tadashi alone who got to be in on this one, unbelievable secret. Tadashi got to know beforehand what Tsukki’s answer would be; got to dismiss any candidate with just a glance towards their hands; got to know the non-sequitur odds stacked against any given classmate pulling out a fist-sized golden ball of foil during their bravest and most vulnerable moment.

Got to be tortured, practically hourly, by a cheat code he never would have guessed and couldn't ever use.

The meaningful look the two of them were currently exchanging – held only for a crystalline heartbeat or six – was meant for Tadashi and Tadashi alone: someone Tsukki believed truly understood him and what had just happened behind Steinbaugh Hall.

_I’m a fraud._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Fun Fact: NO BETA WE DIE LIKE MEN was hilarious to 2am Me, and is in fact the main reason I wrote you this tiny novel :D


	4. Chapter 4

The scene: 3:00 on a typical July afternoon. Innocent clouds sped through the sky and light breezes billowed unpredictable swirls around three volleyball players returning to the gym. No one else in sight to witness their last jaunt around the campus. They were guests here; no, they were ghosts. Quintessential specters that they were, they preoccupied themselves with the recent, unpleasant past.

“I’ve never _actually_ wanted to _punch_ a girl before,” Daichi grit out. Asahi laughed fretfully at the statement, and Suga’s face continued performing its best approximation of a supportive glare. “Who does that?! Why did she think that was a good idea?! We were in middle of a game!!”

They were talking themselves in circles, but every Karasuno veteran knew that it was the healthiest way for a righteously angered Daichi to vent. Already, her appearance had been reinterpreted as Nekoma sabotage; as Tanaka motivation; as _actually not a big deal, since it didn’t affect Tsukkishima or Kageyama’s performance after all._ Their break was coming to an end, and Asahi took the reins of the conversation, clearly hoping to steer them towards a peaceful conclusion.

“Well, it was just a practice game. Luckily, this kind of thing can’t happen during the real ones.”

Suga huffed. “ _Just_ a practice game, Asahi? Yamaguchi was set to pinch serve in the second set!” He and the team captain looked like a matching set of protective parents. Asahi just looked slightly lost.

“Er- Yamaguchi?” He tried, “What does some girl asking Tsukishima out have to do with Yamaguchi?”

He received some _incredulous_ nonverbal responses.

“Ummm. Oh.”

Suga spoke next: “If he _had_ messed up those jump float serves, Coach probably would have gotten the wrong impression. He might not have let him play in future games.” 

“I was standing right next to him,” Daichi contributed, “When she started talking, I thought he was gonna pass out or something.”

Asahi frowned. Out of everyone on the team, he had probably spent the least amount of time getting to know the first-years. Ironically, also out of the whole team, he probably had the most in common with the freckled pinch server. Maybe if Yamaguchi didn’t have such a scary friend, he might have plucked up the courage to get to know him better. All the same, the narrative didn’t seem to match, did it? “Yamaguchi seemed fine when he was talking to Noya right after, though. Maybe she just startled him.”

“Just startled? No. But he did recover quickly.” Daichi responded decisively.

It was obvious that Suga was having an epiphany of some sort: his face was slowly morphing into an all-too-familiar mischievous grin. The silver-haired setter absolutely _loved_ strategy, puzzles, and figuring people out. At the moment, he was putting those skills to use unraveling a truth that would make both of his friends right simultaneously.

“Nope!” Suga exclaimed, “He _did_ panic when he heard her, _and_ he was calm when he was talking to Noya. What happened right in between?!” – the dark-haired players shrugged, mystified – “ _He got a nice good look at her!”_

A beat, in which three sets of footsteps echoed along a concrete corridor. A beat, intended for Suga’s friends to absorb his triumphant genius, before he barreled along with all that his statement implied.

“They’re best friends! _Of course_ Yamaguchi knows what kind of girl Tsukkishima likes: he just looked over and could tell right away!! Oh my _goodness,_ ” Suga squealed, “Can you _imagine_ how those conversations went down hahaha”

The three Karasuno third-years continued along, voices haunting empty classrooms and deserted courtyards. They were taking an inefficient path back to the gym, but neither knew nor cared; they were ghostly visitors, caught up in the moment, casting their lighthearted speculations far, far too comfortably into the open air of Nekoma territory.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> "Why don't you ever describe what anyone looks like?" You ask. "Listen up, you little punk," I say, grinding my cigarette into the hotel lobby ashtray, "You're on page 12,937 of Haikyuu fanfiction. EVERYONE HERE already knows what they look like."


	5. Chapter 5

The second-to-last day of summer training camp continued in full swing. Noon was approaching; Karasuno had just finished their last penalties of the morning, _thank God,_ and Tadashi was finally catching his breath from where he stood next to Yachi. About a third of the team (Tsukki included) had wandered away to the bathroom; the rest were slumping, exhausted, against the walls and watching the Ubugawa vs Shinzen set drag on. By the looks of the bedraggled players now entering the gym in search of their towels, Fukurōdani and Nekoma had finished up their game, as well.

Yachi seemed to him a summery gardener among her field of wilting players. She beamed like sunlight as she passed out bottle after bottle of water, totally ignorant of how essential she had become to their survival. Tadashi, for one, had developed a deeprooted appreciation of her ability to chatter endlessly about lunch and statistics: all that was needed was a little hum here or there for encouragement from his end, and the Karasuno manager-in-training did all the heavy lifting of their conversation.

He had already done a lot of watching and listening today: since he didn’t rotate onto the court as often as some of his teammates, he had taken to eavesdropping on Coach Ukai and Sensei Takeda during games. The snippets of commentary he overheard were comprised of a surprising number of descriptions of strategy and technique, plus – easily more interesting – musings about the personal dynamics of their opponents. It was fascinating to think of the other teams and players that way; even more so to realize that, apparently, either Tsukki or himself sometimes perceived those things before Coach did.

 _Ugh, like that stupid Clever Kenma._ Tadashi had noticed Tsukki keeping a close eye on the setter a whole set before Ukai had described him as Nekoma’s “brain.” Watching closely, he had seen Kenma outwit his best friend multiple times one-on-one; in fact, by the end of most matches, Tsukki had clearly singled out that one player as his rival in Nekoma, far more than even the other blockers. Meanwhile, Kenma had spent one whole time-out just spacing out in Tsukki’s direction.

Something about Clever Kenma made him feel very uneasy. Probably just the mind-games, right?

To their left, Kageyama was still being teased for his encounter with the strange girl yesterday; he seemed to be getting more flak for the fact that she asked him out as a rebound from Tsukki than anything else, though.

“How can those two be so rambunctious all the time?” Yachi wondered aloud.

Barely listening, Tadashi phoned in a “Haha, right?”

Tsukki still wasn’t back from the bathroom yet, although Noya and Ennoshita were. A tall shadow cast its way into the gym entrance, but – _oh, it’s only the Nekoma captain. Plus Kenma._

He didn’t like the look in Kuroo’s eyes: they were trained, from the moment he sauntered into the gym, directly on Tadashi. Kenma lagged after him like a shadow, preoccupied with playing his handheld. They were walking this way. Tadashi pretended to ignore them both: they were enemy troops wielding Intelligence and Confidence, and he relied on his own Extreme Plainness to camouflage him from their attention.

It didn’t work.

“Hey there, _Freckles_ ,” purred the black-haired captain, making both Tadashi and Yachi wince at the moniker. “Let me guess: not on the starting lineup in that last game, either?”

Tadashi stared. Was he… being bullied right now? That didn’t really make sense. Kuroo might look perpetually smug and dangerous, but he gave off a general undercurrent of humor, and no one seemed to actively dislike him. Next to him, Yachi tensed up angrily before apparently losing her nerve and scurrying away. He found his gaze flitting down to the blonde setter for further instruction.

“Idiot.” Kenma muttered quietly, catching Tadashi’s eye as he glanced up from his game.

“Umm, no?” Tadashi tried uncertainly.

“Perfect!” Boomed the Nekoma second-year, “You have plenty of energy left then!! Come practice with us!”

Tadashi blinked. _How do you politely say, “um, no thanks, Mr. Roosterhead, I don’t think that would be productive for anyone involved”?_

“You want to practice... receiving?” He asked instead, intentionally sounding as doubtful as possible.

Kuroo gave him a Cheshire smile. “Nah, just Read Blocking.”

_What, as in me blocking you? Honestly, the people you attract, Tsukki._

Tadashi looked him dead in the eye and opened his mouth to say _No thanks weirdo,_ but Kuroo seemed to _mentally_ Read Block him and spoke immediately. “We need you and Glasses for a quick demonstration; it’ll only take a few minutes. It’ll be _very helpful!_ Even Kenma thinks so, _right Kenma?_ ”

The setter sighed, as though the vocalization of his opinion cost him a great deal of effort, and nodded halfheartedly. Tadashi felt torn between politeness and mistrust. Had the little guy even been listening?

“Err – okay, we’ll be there?”

“No _noo_ , come along _now_ , Freckles!” A sweat-chilled and frankly _gigantic_ arm was suddenly swung around his shoulders, and Tadashi’s vision of the gym was steered firmly towards the exit. “Kenma will wait here for _Tsukki!_ Let’s talk, just the two of us, hm?”

Tadashi had a brief flashback to Tsukki complaining that he’d been roped into evening practice by this very same character the other night. _First Tsukki, now me? Is Daichi going around giving advice to the other teams’ first years too?_

“Let me teach you about Read Blocking,” Kuroo was saying smoothly as he maneuvered them through the throng of teenagers standing around the doors. _Yeah, what is that again?_

“It’s one technique Tsukishima is gonna get real good at, but your Ace over there shouldn’t ever, _ever_ try it.” _What? Why?_ Tadashi curiously followed the finger in front of his left eye to Asahi despite himself, but all the third-year was doing was drinking water and chatting with Suga. 

“Wanna know why?” They pushed past some Fukurōdani stragglers as they headed down the steps of the gym; apprehensively, Tadashi realized that the next few yards would place the unlikely duo all by themselves. The midday sun was reflecting blindingly off of the expanse of concrete before them, and he squinted across it to see their destination. Kuroo finally removed his crushingly heavy arm in favor of a nonchalant amble; the way he was eyeing the younger player managed to convey both laziness and deadly intent. _You’re being privately tutored by the captain of a rival powerhouse!_ His nerves helpfully reminded him, _About Read Block - oh shoot, am I supposed to know what that means?_

“Um – I don’t actually know what Read Blocking is,” Tadashi fessed up, feeling oddly guilty-yet-proud to invoke Daichi's honesty policy in the absense of his teammates.

Kuroo reacted with a sound like a cat coughing: “Auughhl! But it’s the _perfect metaphor_ , Freckles!” he complained dramatically.

“Wh – sorry?” _Metaphor??_

The Nekoma captain waved his hand around a bit and sighed. “Never mind, forget it!" _But - wait what?_ _"_ A good captain always comes prepared with backups! Hey hey, you know that girl that came ‘round yesterday and asked your Genius Setter out?”

Tadashi nodded cautiously, as if a) she hadn't been hard to miss and b) Kuroo hadn't already managed to find and push all his buttons.

“Right – first off, neither of them were special; she’s just always doing that for some reason. More importantly! I can tell you right now that Kageyama turned her down with a _memorized response_!” Kuroo announced, as if he had said something impressive.

“I mean, yeah?” Tadashi responded, feeling less and less convinced that there would be education involved in this conversation after all.

Kuroo raised an eyebrow as if to say, _“Go on?”_

“Yachi made him memorize a script a few weeks ago because he was apparently really bad at it.” _You should get a kick out of that, if you’re just trying to weed gossip out of me right now._

He was rewarded with an amused rolling of eyes. “Ah, little Freckles, but I would bet $50 that he had a script _before_ that one, _too_ ~”

_Okay, fine…_

“What, he gets asked out all the time, of course he has something ready. He’s this 'genius setter' and girls think he’s mysterious and good-looking —” Tadashi watched a predatory smile form on Kuroo’s face, knew he was on the wrong track, and changed tactics mid-sentence: “— but once you get to know him, it’s totally in character for him. He doesn’t care at all about that stuff, so came up with a, like, default response to confessions.”

It was the right answer. Kuroo was exuding the same vibes that Suga gave off when he was walking someone through a secret plan.

“And what about your cowardly ace?” Drawled the spiker, “How would _he_ have handled it, if she'd gone after him instead?”

 _Ugh so this is the metaphor. You better not be going for some cliché lesson about ‘being prepared’ or ‘facing your fears.’_ A part of him wanted to bristle and defend the honor of the third-year, but an even stronger part of him wanted to bristle and defend his _own_ honor. Sure, he hadn’t played _perfectly_ today, but he wasn’t going to let some stranger lecture him on his own awkwardness! He cut straight to the chase: “Asahi’s also handsome and I bet he also gets asked out all the time, but he just doesn’t think the same way. He’s probably never prepared for confessions, and panics every time.” _Yeah, sorry, Asahi._

They reached the cool shadow of the second gym and stepped inside. The clanking of the double doors echoed across deserted courts. The lights were off, leaving the large structure lit only with ambient beams of sunshine from overhead.

Kuroo _tsk_ ed, “Now, now. In other words, something about the experience _is_ important to ManBun, and he tends to overthink.” Tadashi was beginning to piece together that this metaphor was for one-on-one blocking. _Or maybe all blocking?_

Kuroo called out his next question over his shoulder as he cheerily turned towards the nearest basket of volleyballs. “And how about everyone’s favorite blonde Karasuno?” In the back of his mind, Tadashi was now definitely feel ill at ease with the speed and unpredictability of Kuroo’s little chat. _I figured I would be the next example, for some reason?_

He sighed and played along, though. “Tsukki’s in between, he doesn’t have some stupid script memorized –” _Hm, that’s a bit unfair, Kageyama’s not a_ bad _blocker –_ “He thinks a lot more than Kageyama, but still stays calm, unlike Asahi.” _Although Asahi’s whole thing is spiking, does he really even get worked up about how well he blocks?_

“Freckles!” Kuroo suddenly drew himself up to his full height, fishing out a ball with both hands. “Getting asked out is _nothing_ like blocking.” The ball slapped from one hand to the other in order to emphasize the point. “Put the game _aside_ for a sec and do your thing: think about the _people_. Tsukishima is a human _,_ after all. He’s not interested in crushing some poor girl’s feelings unintentionally.”

Tadashi felt himself smile a bit. _You’ve only known him for like two days and you already decide to phrase it like that._

“Riddle me this, Freckles: What would your buddy say if I were to march back there and confess to him right now?” Easy question; Tadashi could answer it in his sleep.

“I don’t know what he’d say, exactly,” Tadashi pretended to muse, pro actor that he was, “But he’d turn you down.”

“You sound awfully confident,” Kuroo hummed. Tadashi’s brain briefly thrived on how unfazed the dark-eyed captain was by the hypothetical rejection. Then: “What would he say if it was _you_?”

His traitorous heart skipped a beat, even though the answer was exactly the same. “Like I said, he doesn’t give out memorized replies or anything, so he’d say something different. It would still be a no, though.” _Like, wow, can we all just be proud of Tadashi here for handling this conversation with such grace? Let’s get some Academy Awards up in here._

Kuroo didn’t reply right away; instead, narrowing his eyes in contemplation and spinning the volleyball on the tip of his finger. _You know what, he and Kenma_ both _freak me out. There’s no way he could guess I like Tsukki, right…?_

Tadashi’s brain – ever vigilant of secrecy – instructed him to casually lean back on the wall next to the door. From here, he had an unobstructed view of the concrete landscape between this gym and the main one. Their teammates were beginning to spill out into the open space, but no one seemed to be headed directly towards them. _Good._ Like _hell_ was he about to let someone walk in on this conversation, sitcom-style, if it was to take a turn for the worse.

“This is good,” Kuroo said slowly, “One more.” _One more pointless hypothetical? Or one more ‘accidental’ interrogation about my team’s personal lives?_ Nonetheless, out of deference to the Nekoma captain, he pretended to look interested and turned his head so as to put the entranceway into his periphery.

“What iff ~” -suddenly Tadashi’s brain was on HIGH ALERT: _this_ hypothetical came packaged like a box of poisoned sweets and dramatized like an exceptionally bad play- “I became a _very good friend_ of both of yours? Specifically you, Yamaguchi: I convince you of my many _excellent_ qualities as a person, and you come to truly respect and trust me.” _Not very likely, weirdo._ “And _then_ I ask you, ‘Freckles, my best friend, my closest pal, what advice can you give me to woo Glasses, the love of my life, over there?’ and _then_ I went and confessed to him! What would he say then, do you think?”

Tadashi felt deeply unequipped to respond to such a scenario. He scrambled against a blind panic and took a deep breath and tried anyways. He tried to imagine the two of them, a year from now, as unlikely friends. _Nope, that didn’t work._

He tried again, this time picturing a conversation with an imaginary _someone else._ She looked like Yachi, for some reason? They were in his living room, Tadashi passing tissues to her and she was _crying_ , genuinely crying, over Tsukki's kindness, humor, beauty - all the many, countless qualities to be lovesick over. He could practically _feel_ his inner conflict as she described her plan to confess. This person hadn’t guessed about the Chocolate Orange, but she was so in love with Tsukki and _oh man the pressure to help her out is tearing me apart wouldn’t it make me the world’s worst friend to just sit aside and watch her fail? Would it make me the world’s Ultra Worst friend to Tsukki if I basically kept him from getting a girlfriend?_

It was going to look so suspicious if he spent too long figuring out this scenario. _If she flat out asked me for advice..._ A good friend would cave and tell her the Rule, his own feelings about it be damned. He would tell her, and she would go confess using an orange-flavored sliceable sweet, and that would be that.

Kuroo was grinning maniacally, ball whirling at maddening speeds in front of his face. Tadashi needed another second to breathe to ensure that his voice didn’t give everything away. Asahi was the closest to the entrance now; it looked as though he had taken a phone call, and was wandering away from the crowd on a trajectory that would take him no closer. Most of the throng was spread out and moving off laterally. On the steps of the main gym, Bokuto was ruffling Tsukki’s hair. For a second, the two of them were the only people standing still in the whole scene: Tsukki, bathed in sunlight, was like a glowing reflection of Tadashi, hidden just a few feet into the shadows. And then the moment was over – Bokuto bounded away towards his friends, and Tsukki began an even, solitary walk directly towards Tadashi.

“He’d say yes,” He replied simply, again with the confidence he knew Kuroo was listening for. No sooner than he had said it, his brain went 180 on the decision and vowed to _never_ tell this conniving menace or anyone else about the chocolates.

Kuroo let out a big “ _WHOOP!”_ and tossed the still-spinning ball skyward, apparently basking in his triumph. Wait – how much of that had he guessed? Was he _actually_ planning on befriending Tadashi and asking Tsukki out?? 

“Clever Glasses! Should never have doubted him!” The Nekoma captain was saying, “’ _Course_ he’d make you the deciding factor! Look at how much he trusts you! I _knew_ it –”

_How much he…_

Tadashi couldn’t tear his eyes away from his fast-approaching friend. Bokuto had rounded up Ahaashi and were following only a few yards behind. Tsukki was always walking by himself places, wasn’t he? Even when he was going the same way as his teammates, he tended to lag behind or off to one side. How had it never occurred to Tadashi that Tsukki only changed this behavior when the two of them were together? _If I was with him right now, wouldn’t Tsukki let the Fukurōdani players walk with us?_

Tsukki’s shadow was a puddle of darkness at his side. What if Tsukki was depending on Tadashi to approve of his romantic partner, too?

_I can’t believe I never thought of it this way before._

Kuroo was still rambling about _observational genius_ and _social IQ_. Their time alone was up, so Tadashi stuffed his revelation into a tiny box and wrenched his mind back onto the only thing the two of them had in common.

“Sorry – what does this have to do with volleyball?”

“GAHHH!! _First years,_ ” Kuroo complained, “EVERYTHING, Freckles! C’mon!”

“Your metaphor kinda sucks,” And Tadashi was _back_ \- back on his game just in time: he had made sure to raise his voice loud enough for the approaching blocker to hear. It was the perfect conversational entry point for Tsukki, who visibly entered Snark Mode upon hearing the words.

“No it doesn’t! You were almost there!” Kuroo started spinning the volleyball with one finger again. With the other hand, he suddenly – _horrifyingly_ – pointed to an entering Tsukki. “Help me out here, Glasses! Let’s turn it around.”

_OH NO abort abort abort_

“How would Freckles here have rejected Juliet-chan yesterday?” _Oh._ That was unexpected; Tsukki, who stopped on the opposite threshold of the double doors, obviously thought so too.

There was a pause, which didn’t mean that this was uncomfortable; just that it was a People Question that deserved extra consideration. _You know I’ve never been confessed to, so this is a_ real _hypothetical for you._

“…” Tsukki glanced at Tadashi and looked, just in that split second… sad?

“… Kindly.” Was the answer.

“ _TSUKKIIIIII!!”_ Tadashi pushed himself away from his wall to give him a hug. Kuroo’s whole creepy analogy had just been ruined by the sweetest thing Tadashi had ever heard! The two of them were both pretty gross, though, so the gesture ended up being more of a brief collision. Tsukki used the momentum to take a step sideways to the light switches; Tadashi remained in the open doorway.

Kuroo huffed and rolled his eyes. “Fine, fine. Can you imagine little Sunshine here turning down anyone _unkindl –_ no, don’t answer that. Would he turn down _everyone_ _the same way_?”

Tsukki had the answer ready to go. “No, it would depend on the person.” This time, he didn’t sound fond, just factual.

“Seeee??” Jeered Kuroo victoriously, even though all threads of the metaphor were completely lost on his audience of two, “Serving is _exactly_ like predicting rejections! Just _you –_ ” he jabbed a finger at Tadashi, “ _–_ with your people skills, on one side of the net, and me, and Tsukishima, and Kenma, and Kageyama, and ManBun on the other. Who’s gonna handle your jump floater the worst?”

Tadashi needed a breather; he was getting whiplash. “When did Kenma come into all of this?” _And when did_ serving _come into all of this? What happened to Read Blocking?_

The Nekoma captain responded by abruptly chucking the ball at Tadashi’s chest. _Slap!_ Tadashi caught it with both hands and gazed at the scuffs along the colored stripes, wondering if there might be some kind of lesson buried under this disjointed conversation after all. He tried to visualize the described mix of players, in their five mismatched jerseys, on the other side of a net. They were missing a player _oh, because I’m now on this side of the court, by myself. None of them are particularly strong receivers… he’s asking me: how will each one of them react, based on their personalities?_

The jump float serve was his one and only weapon. He imagined getting into position to wield it, first turning towards the be-goggled face of his best friend _who TRUSTS you to choose his love interest by the way –_

The volleyball was suddenly torn from his fingers from above; Tadashi _may_ have let out a tiny shriek in alarm. He had totally forgotten about Ahaashi and Bokuto! The latter was making a strange “OHOHO?!” noise, as though owlishly surprised to see a scrawny first year in the doorway of their cool-people-only clubhouse; Fukurōdani's setter, meanwhile, walked past with the ball to the nets, looking bored.

On instinct, Tadashi turned to look at Tsukki, who remained completely oblivious as to the way their entire relationship may or may not have just been redefined. Tsukki was observing him back with an uncharacteristically open, curious expression adorned with a crooked smile. A shaft of hazy light illuminated the tips of his sweat-damp hair, making him look even more ethereal than normal.

“Well, Little Pinch-Server, my friend,” Kuroo said, clapping a hand on Tadashi’s shoulder and jolting him back to the present, “I’ll let you go think over my infinite wisdom. Just remember: you’ve got to let your _people skills_ tell you where to aim your tricky serves. Use your time on the sidelines to get to know your opponents, then treat the serve like your own game of matchmaking. Use that social IQ! Do that, and you’ll be a Service Ace Monster in no time. Ta ta!”

Tadashi barely took in the hurried dismissal as he was shoved out into the open air, still desperately trying to process the sudden influx of actually useful words and – compliments? The double doors swung shut behind him, and the resulting puff of air forced a cloud of dust up all around him. He was the only person on this side of the courtyard and there were still 45 minutes left before the end of their break, which was _perfect._

_I am SO GLAD I didn’t come here for school. I’d spend half of every practice trying to understand what that maniac just said._

He figured that Tsukki and his new friends would only have about ten minutes to practice before someone came to nag them about eating. That meant that, instead of going directly to lunch himself, he could collect his thoughts for a bit while waiting for Tsukki, and hopefully be mentally recovered by the start of the next game. He picked a direction at random and started off past a row of hard benches and trash cans.

First off, _that advice sounded so cool!_ He did his best to remember his Nekoma senpai’s parting words, and contextualize them with the conversation about scripts, and not preparing, and observational skills, and predicting rejections. How did it all fit together? _“It would depend on the person,”_ Tsukki had said. _“Look at how much he trusts you!”_ Kuroo had exclaimed. Did… was he saying that Tsukki thought Tadashi was great at understanding people?

It was really hard to connect the dots from that part; the breakneck pacing and topic parkour had blindsided him while it had been happening. Upon review, he began to worry that Kuroo might _actually_ like Tsukki. That last scenario had been so specific; it would explain the motive behind gravitating to tutor only Tsukki, _plus he keeps showing up and trying to get to know him, and he just went out of his way to help me too…_

He forcefully wrenched his mind off of the terrifying possibility by remembering Oikawa, the equally upsetting powerhouse ace. That guy was the definition of a Service Ace Monster. Hadn't Coach said he had targeted players on purpose during the practice match? He tried to imagine _himself_ scoring a pile of service aces by anticipating how each rival player would respond to an unfamiliar ball. Of course, right now it was hard enough just to get them over the net.

Tadashi stopped in his tracks next to a large swath of dying hedges. _WOW,_ he thought suddenly, _that conversation would have been wayy more helpful if I could actually_ aim _my serves._

Respect for Kuroo dwindling once again to normal levels, he made another turn. He was vaguely planning on looping around the auxiliary gym, and also maybe staving off a panic attack by looking at new scenery. Serving advice now as absorbed as would ever get, his mind tore into the lockbox containing the much more pressing topic at hand.

 _This whole time you’ve been thinking about the Chocolate Orange like some kind of riddle, but what if you were supposed to think about it like a password you were supposed to be giving out? That would make sense to Tsukki, right? Like, he wouldn’t want to go out with anyone I didn’t approve of in the first place? We’re best friends; he’d want us to all get along. Oh God, that sounds like_ exactly _the kind of messed up logic he would have._

_Oh no, what if he thinks the reason I haven’t told anyone the secret is because I’m really stupid? WHAT IF HE THINKS I HAVEN’T TOLD ANYONE BECAUSE I LIKE HIM OH NO_

He turned the last corner of the gym just in time to watch the Nekoma manager jog inside. _Okay okay don’t panic, they’ll be coming out in just a sec so get your mind off of it everything is fine._

Tadashi’s brain was having none of it; some part of him clung to the imaginary pain that a sobbing Yachi could inflict on him at any moment, and demanded _What if_ that _happens?! What do I do? What does he want me to do? What if KUROO asks me about it?? What do I do what do I DO?!_

Deep breath. _I need a distraction._ Asahi was sitting on the next row of trashcan-flanked benches; the two of them had never really interacted by themselves, but they were teammates, so –?

“Er – hi, Asahi.” Tadashi mumbled.

Asahi sprang to his feet like a six-foot tall bunny. “Haha, hello. I was just… answering a text… um.”

“Oh, sorry yeah go for it.”

“Cool,” Asahi muttered, no less tense than before.

The two of them stood there in the walkway, summer heat blazing down on them from above. _Seems hotter when you stand still, for some reason. Does walking generate wind, or do sunrays need to sit on your skin for a few seconds to work?_ It was the sort of thing they might teach in second-year Physics class; therefore, Asahi might know, _but that's kind of a weird thing to ask him, right?  
_

The silence continued. Tadashi had the sinking feeling that his presence was adversely affecting Asahi’s texting: the tall teen seemed to be typing in short, fragmented bursts. Nearby, the Nekoma manager left the gym and started heading back the way he came. Tadashi began weighing the merits of the opener, “ _Wanna head over to the cafeteria now?”,_ even though it would preclude him from walking there with Tsukki. _Would Tsukki try to catch up to us? Or would he want to walk with Kuroo-san?_

 _Kuroo is very charismatic,_ Tadashi’s brain contributed fearfully, effectively pouring gasoline onto the fire rampaging through his peace of mind, _very handsome, super jacked, so cool all the time. He and Tsukki became friends so quickly…_

Literally the second the ace looked up from his screen _, Tadashi’s_ phone buzzed loudly in his pocket and startled them both. _Tsukki?_ It vibrated four more times in quick succession, and Asahi suddenly looked like he wanted to die. He felt himself absorbing the third-year’s awkwardness like a sponge.

“Oh,” he heard his voice stuttering on autopilot, “Um - hang on, haha”

_Friday, 12:38pm:_

_UNKNOWN NUMBER:_

Freckles yo!

got your number from Kenma who got it from Shorty

thought you might want it, I’m sure we’ll see each other again soon ;)

I’m not gonna steal yo man btw, relax

Just showing off my own people skills, u feel?

Tadashi looked down at his screen and waited, but nothing else came through. Somewhere deep inside, paranoid mechanisms were crashing to a halt at miraculous speeds. 

_“I’m not gonna steal yo man btw, relax”_

Tears briefly obstructed his view of the words.

_Promise?_

The thing about hearts is that they work a lot slower than brains - that's just basic muscle vs. electricity in action right there. So, unfortunately, as his heart shut down operations for just a _few minutes for crying out loud_ to process today's traumatic happenings, his brain remained acutely aware of the seconds ticking by. Asahi was still waiting on him and was _definitely_ noticing his expression and _why haven’t I learned a single thing from Tsukki about poker faces after all of these years!?_

He braced himself for the worst, but –

“Are you okay?” Incredibly, the man standing before Tadashi had transformed into the epitome of Concern and Compassion. His voice was deep and steady; his stubbled face searching and kind. Tadashi’s brain caught up to the fact that, really, he had no idea who Asahi was outside of practice. Immediately following that thought came the belated realization that this relative stranger had just witnessed his entire minute of abject relief, and felt his face catch ablaze with embarrassment just thinking about what had caused it.

_Awesome, now I look like I’m on the brink of tears AND blushing. I hate you so much, Kuroo._

Asahi, alone in the company of an unresponsive, emotional first-year, looked like he badly wanted for everything to be okay, but was now unsure as to how to actually help. Nonetheless, he walked forward and placed a comforting hand on Tadashi’s shoulder, with only a precursory glance at the phone that had altered the atmosphere.

“UMMMM” _What do I say haha_

It was going to be incredibly difficult to salvage this interaction. It might even be impossible: he was coming up with a total blank as to normal things to say. He heard himself stuttering apologies and internally begged his face to return to its normal colors. _How do I convince him I’m fine??_

A desperate glance over their shoulders saved them: Tsukki was stalking rapidly towards them, while his three new buddies raced each other in the opposite direction to the cafeteria. _Tsukki’s angry at being ditched,_ Tadashi noted mentally.

Following his gaze towards the gym, Asahi blanched and took a hasty step backwards, shyness apparently returning with a vengeance. “See you around, Yamaguchi!” squeaked out the ace, who promptly fled before Tsukki’s glare. Tadashi could almost cry, partly out of how awfully that Asahi Interaction had gone, and partly out of gratitude that Tsukki had chosen to walk with him instead of the Nekoma captain.

He completely missed the way his friend’s hostile demeanor softened the instant he turned away from Asahi.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yamaguchi absolutely despising Kuroo is a Big Mood and a Comedy Goldmine and I will fight anyone who says otherwise


	6. Chapter 6

_Practice today was roouuuggghhh._ His shoulders ached; his sides hurt; his entire body felt totally drained. Wandering back into the changing room, Tadashi was vaguely aware (and annoyed) that he wasn’t as damp as normal, which meant he hadn’t even sweat that much. Ugh but three nights in a row working on his floaters with Shimada PLUS today’s Special Server Practice was definitely Too Much. The plan, Tadashi mused as he collapsed on the bench in front of his locker, was to maybe shower and then definitely nap for ten years.

Asahi was already almost done taking off his shoes, even though they’d come back in at the same time. _Bigger hands means faster at untying shoelaces? Actually nah it would be the other way around right? Aaand there we go, gotta stand up and put these awayyy_

It was still just the two of them in the locker room, the same way it had just been the two of them (with the occasional Nishinoya cameo) for the last half hour of practice. It made sense: get the two best servers to dedicate time honing their skills, while potentially learning from each other in the process. Asahi had had it easy, since it wasn’t like he was trying to acquire the Jump Float serve, but Tadashi didn’t think he’d ever be able to feel his hand again after multiple ill-advised attempts to mimic the powerhouse's spike. Except that wasn’t quite the truth, _Asahi had it way worse than me today..._

Gingerly placing one knee on the splintery bench for balance, Tadashi turned away from the Karasuno ace to retrieve his clean clothes. The gentle giant transformed into a flurry of motion in the corner of his eye. _No wonder you’ve got all those muscles geez.  
_

_Ow ow owww this was a horrible idea I should just abandon ship now who needs clean shirts anyways who even knew there were muscles in your armpits_ and by the time Tadashi had painfully torn himself out of his shirt, Asahi was completely finished dressing, but was now shifting his weight from foot to foot in indecision: _“Do I leave the little first year by himself, or do I wait for him? Should I say something? I shouldn’t look at him while he’s half-dressed.”_

_Just goooo man it hurts to watch_

Tadashi fumbled with his folded shorts and accidentally dropped them behind the bench. He knelt to retrieve them with a burning face and shoulders high enough to touch his own ears. 

_I’m so sorry for making you so uncomfortable Asahi-san :(_

That was the problem with putting Karasuno’s best two setters together. Some primal, competitive aspect of Tadashi's brain was innately triggered by the easily-readable anxious mess that was Asahi Azumane; consequently, it vehemently resolved to become an even _more_ anxious mess than Asahi. Commence 35 minutes of awkward laughs, neck rubbing, stupid mistakes, and stuttering. And - as if that wasn’t enough! - Tadashi discovered that adding to the mix one (1) unpredictable libero and four (4) sentences about bravery, then allowing the tension rise for 20 seconds as Asahi watched him figure out something he _definitely_ wasn’t supposed to know, was a secret recipe for the most powerful Awkward experienceable by humankind.

He wanted nothing more than to beg Coach to NEVER ask them to work together again _I swear I’ll do whatever it takes, I’ll practice Ace Spikes in my free time if you want, literally I’ll do anything that was the worrrssttt_ but at this rate it was going to take him at least three business days to emotionally recover. Taking the day off of school, volleyball, and life as a whole tomorrow sure sounded tempting.

And then – right as Tadashi gingerly placed his dirty clothes into his mesh laundry bag – they heard a distant whistle heralding the arrival of their approaching teammates. Tadashi whipped his head around to look at Asahi. Asahi’s eyes moved from his own bank of lockers to meet his.

 _“THANK GOD”_ they definitely both thought in unison.

Tadashi felt his face split wide with a grin; at last, the tension in the room dissipated. Nishinoya and Tanaka were making a huge racket, but Asahi started strolling towards the door anyways. Running his calculations quickly, Tadashi determined that in order to avoid leaving the room too soon and risk putting the two of them in the position to even remotely interact, he would need to take his sweet time tying his shoes, plus engage in some teammate banter. Tsukki wouldn’t like the holdup, but that was his problem. This was life or death.

Everybody filed in, parting like a torrent of whitewater around Asahi as they did. Nishinoya jumped high in the air and poked him in the side; Ennoshita gave the two of them a wide berth with a tight smile; Kageyama had Hinata in a headlock so needed to push past just a little bit (Tadashi could tell Asahi was QUITE startled by the contact, despite seeing them coming), and – there! _Tsukki!_

Tsukki meandered over to Tadashi’s bench, fluidly raising an arm to eye level just in time to reach Locker 15. The underside of that forearm was freshly reddened from blocking. An _It’s Been Awhile, Let’s Catch Up and Get Out of Here_ smirk + eyebrow combination came across his face.

“You look exhausted.”

“That was sooo haaaarrrd,” Tadashi wailed, letting a hollow metallic _thunk_ emphasize his point as he dropped his head back. “I can’t remember the last time I was this tired Tsukki.”

“Heh.” Tsukki was so kind; he always verbalized his expressions when he knew Tadashi had his eyes closed. The sound was just loud enough to hear over the background noises of rummaging bags, squeaky hinges, and general chatter. _Is it still considered chatter when there’s so much yelling?_ _Oh no, I was supposed to be talking to everyone else, if I keep just talking to Tsukki we’re gonna leave too early and we could end up walking through the gym at the same time as Asahi. That would be no bueño  
_

“That’s whhh–” _CLICK._

_Eh?_

“……”

_???_

Tadashi really didn’t want to open his eyes; it felt like he might be drifting off here and now. _Did Tsukki leave something in the gym?_ That would be a good thing, actually: just the delay he needed.

“……”

He squinted his right eye open, wrinkling his nose against the light. Somehow this also made the background noise of “BAKEYAMA!!” even louder. _I’m so tired_ but he focused in on Tsukki’s unreadable expression right away. _WELL, it’s unreadable but Tsukki Unreadable TM, which means I CAN read it: you’re saying “I don’t want you to know how I feel right now.” Nice try, Tsukki. _

Tsukki looked at Tadashi and kept saying nothing. This was an Odd Thing. Tadashi’s brain performed the equivalent of repeatedly turning the car keys and hearing only clicking noises; it seemed that visiting AnxietyLand with Asahi had completely killed the battery. With no conviction whatsoever, Tadashi halfheartedly explained to himself, _“I look more tired than he expected”_ and left it at that. 

"..."

Tsukki opened his mouth to speak at last: “I didn’t think you would actually tell anyone, Yamaguchi.” So quiet, so completely devoid of discernible feeling.

“You’ve got-” the words _“me there”_ were swallowed up by a yawn. _Actually, huh? What are we talking about?_

The yawn functioned as a deep breath, which Tadashi used to propel the words “-ta tell me what you’re talking about, Tsukki?” out instead. He had missed why and how their conversation had veered off track, and did not have the mental fortitude to solve any mysteries right now.

Tsukki’s face was bathed in super bright – probably super annoying – light from the windows high above them both. He was standing just 2 feet away, head maybe 3 feet above Tadashi’s, hand still resting ( _if a 90-degree wrist angle can be called “resting”_ ) on the latch of his own locker. As if to keep it shut. His eyes slid slowly from Tadashi’s face back to his locker. _Not gonna tell me? That’s cool, Odd Conversation over._

Those eyes then slid just as slowly back. _Oh?_ Traveled down the length of his body, down to the poorly packed laundry bag at their feet. Returned to his face. Were FINALLY given some emotion by inwardly-creasing brows. Tsukishima Kei was _contemplating._

_That’s fine. This works as a delay too._

Tsukki was amazing, but could take a long time, sometimes, to formulate words of the non-snarky variety when people were involved. Looks like today “people” was Tadashi. Luckily, “people” were in a very patient mood right now.

It also wasn’t like anyone else in the locker room would notice what the two childhood friends were talking (or not talking) about. They were all busy: busy changing fast, or slow, or not at all. Busy pulling out a notebook and handing it to a beaming Suga, or busy thumping Nishinoya on the back. Busy being friends and teammates and high schoolers. Busy caught up in a moment of ephemeral transition, taking place in a high-ceilinged square of space containing low benches, rusty trashcans, and soon-forgotten memories. Somehow Tadashi had always been off to the side, or the corner, along with Tsukki: never quite contributing to the noise, but absorbing the effluent camaraderie like an insider-bystander. Their two lockers at the end of the bank felt like a pocket of –

_Whoops, been ignoring Tsukki for too long._

Tsukki hadn’t moved much, but was still glancing unsurely between Tadashi and his own locker. It was really weird, the way he was holding the latch closed like that. Since it was at eye level, it almost looked like Tsukki was looking through those…vent-thingies that lockers have. _There are some things that science just cannot explain._

Exhaustion warred with the instinct to formulate theories until Tadashi’s brain finally revved a good 10% of itself into action. Whatever confusing thing Tsukki had said was long forgotten, so let’s figure out why he doesn’t want to change out of his clothes right now. _He could be… hurt? And doesn’t want people to see?_

Tadashi let his eyes drift closed again. _Nah,_ that wasn’t right.

He had _heard_ the small door click shut, so keeping a hand against it was utterly unnecessary. If Tsukki was planning on changing any time soon, though, it would be more efficient to just leave his hand on the handle. _I could see him thinking that._

“—my little cousin!” Daichi was exclaiming loudly. _Nope, nobody’s cousin is in there. Unless they were REALLY tiny, then actually that would explain_ —

_OHMYGOD SOMETHING ALIVE IS IN THAT LOCKER_

Tadashi’s eyes snapped open, wide and unfocused even as his brain kicked into gear with information about the UNACCEPTABLY SMALL distance between his own head and the vents of Locker 15. His body began to tense up very, very slowly. No sudden movements. He was awake now, and horrified. Meeting Tsukki’s eyes brought him no comfort, since it only forced his teammate's eyebrows way the heck up into a surprised look. 

“What’s in there,” Tadashi breathed. _Please let it be dead, please let it be dead._

Tsukki seemed to be struggling keeping up his façade here. He forced a brave parody of a smirk onto his face that did nothing to mask his previous uncertain deliberation. “You haven’t figured it out, Sherlock Holmes?” and _ohboy it’s alive damn it all Tsukki is so Uneasy that he spelled out Sherlock’s last name this is badddd_

With a cryptic answer like that, Tsukki was obviously planning on waiting out the crowd to reveal his terrifying secret. Tadashi would never survive the suspense. Slowly, carefully, he stood up, eyes never leaving Tsukki’s locker, and took a few steps away from them both. Tsukki’s head tilted to the side as he watched the pinch server retreat. 

One more step. The shirt of Tadashi’s target brushed his left elbow, and he tugged urgently on the cloth the way a child would on the skirt of its mother.

“Oh, Yamaguchi? Everything alright?” _Honestly, bless you Daichi._ The team captain had even straight-up interrupted Suga just now, also capturing the attention of everyone within earshot, judging by the instant drop in volume.

“Th- there’s a —” Nope, Tadashi can’t tear his eyes away from the rectangle of orange metal underneath his best friend’s hand for even a second. He did incline his head more towards Daichi to see him from his periphery though. Looked like Team Captain was already changed and wearing his backpack.

Deep breath. Try again. “There’s a rat in Tsukki’s locker,” he blurted. _Ugh I sound so scared._

“Wha -!” Daichi exclaimed, followed by “Seriously?!?” from Tanaka and horrified sounds from the rest of the eavesdroppers.

Tadashi nodded miserably. All 7 sets of eyes turned to the lone blocker by the wall. Tsukki exhaled through his nose, hackles raised and mouth curling upwards in a tight, unhappy smile. _He didn’t want to make a scene but nope I just can’t deal with this let’s make literally anybody else deal with this._

“It’s just a mouse, Yamaguchi,” Tsukki intoned apathetically.

“Oh.”

Chaos was erupting, shrieks and jeers about girliness bouncing around the battered room. Daichi was standing next to Tadashi, reliably calming the storm. To Nishinoya’s “ _Move aside son, I’ma–_ ” the team captain stonewalled, “No. Allow us deal with this Noya.” Sugawara was physically pushing Kageyama and Hinata out the door. _They are both such wise men,_ Tadashi thought in awe.

Everyone was talking about mice: specifically, the anatomy that they most disliked. Tanaka was leering over a cowering Narita, wriggling his index fingers like tails. Tadashi caught the phrase "spooky red eyes" as someone ducked out of the room voluntarily, but ignored the rest of that sentence in favor of learning that Ennoshita’s sister actually owned two pet mice. “They’re soft! She used to own this really clever rat, but he died a few years back.”

 _Oh yeah, what made me think it was a rat in the first place?_ Tadashi’s gaze flicked back over to Tsukki. Unreadable TsukkiTM looked back. _A mouse is pretty close though, I think we’re developing telepathy!_

Eventually, the clubroom was evacuated except for the two of them and the third-years. Tadashi – who was now crouched, birdlike, on the bench next to Daichi – mentally prepared himself for an inspiring show of bravery from the Team Captain, but held private doubts about the setter’s competence in this situation. He didn’t think Tsukki would freak out. He had zero clue at all about himself: his own body was currently in a state of extreme instability. _I’ve been through a lot today. Oh man, can you imagine if the mouse went into_ my _locker instead?? I would have opened it and both Asahi and I would have screamed for sure, we were both so on edge and…… oh no._

Tadashi had definitely seen Asahi and Sugawara walking away from practice together one time. _Ohnooo._ What if Asahi decided to wait for Daichi and Suga?? _That would be the worst, then we’d all walk together till at least the train station and we’d both have to spend the entire time pretending we had a great time with each other and Daichi would go tell Coach and then he’d make it into a regular thing and –_

Deep breath. There was only one option. “Thanks, you guys. Tsukki, you think the two of us have got this from here?”

Unreadable TsukkiTM gave a curt nod and made an affirmative noise. “Yeah, you’re welcome to go.” And as an afterthought: “Thank you.”

From the corner of his eye, Tadashi watched Sugawara toss a broom handle from one hand to the other, smiling gently. _Aha, Suga thinks we’re being brave! He literally couldn’t be more wrong!_

Daichi nodded slowly, expression grave. “Alright. Good luck, you two.” 

The dark-haired teenager turned, his indistinct profile adopting the dark amber hue of his backpack. Sugawara quickly handed the broom off to Tadashi, bristles down, before doing the same. The two friends walked side by side out of sight.

And then there were two.

 _“Do you want me here??”_ Tadashi felt like trying out his telepathy powers; this was the kind of thing he, as Tsukkishima Kei’s confidante, shouldn’t have to ask out loud.

The tall bespectacled blocker failed to receive the imaginary signal. He looked incredibly closed off? His mouth was scrunched over to one side and his left hand had traveled into his shorts pocket. _Still, I think – I think that’s a “Yeah, Yamaguchi, I don’t want to be alone right now.”_

_I’m not even going to be any help, I can feel it._

Tadashi didn’t like this at all. The beachy wood of the bench curved underneath his shoes, betraying a sag that he had never consciously noticed before now. The tan wall behind Tsukki had some dust bunnies about halfway up it, and was that– was that a waterspot on the ceiling? _But there’s no second floor? Is there water coming in through a break in the shingles or something?_

Tsukki would know, but looking at Tsukki would mean giving him permission to speak, which would invariably lead to the Releasing of the Rodent. Oh man, Tadashi was totally going to scream.

Neither one of them spoke until the steps of their senpais had faded from earshot. Tadashi tightened his grip on the broom and hesitantly looked at his best friend. Tsukki did seem just a little more relaxed now that the space was cleared of outside witnesses. His mouth twitched upwards just a little. _You think this is funny?!_

“… There’s no mouse.”

 _Ohthankgod._ “Tsuuukkiiiii!” He hadn’t _meant_ to whine; it had just come out.

Tsukki smiled. Tadashi thought that he still looked a bit off, but was too busy catching his breath to think any more about it. It was ridiculously strange, the whole atmosphere right now. _Just the two of us in this room for no reason, and Tsukki’s still in his gym clothes._

Now knowing his feet had nothing to fear, Tadashi shifted around to sit normally on Daichi’s bench. Tsukki slowly lowered his hand from his own locker and glanced towards it a final time. The two childhood friends searched each other’s faces from 6 feet apart. Locker 15 – ominously closed and foreboding – felt like a surreally mundane detail to focus on in the equally mundane room. Tsukki moved as though to take a step forwards, away from the locker, but then retracted his leg and rocked back to his original position.

_So now I really have no idea what’s going on? Is there really nothing in there??_

The idea that this had all been an elaborate ploy to force him to watch Tsukki strip briefly flashed through his mind but was immediately shot down: _nonono not that kind of thought right now k thanks_

In a careful, neither-quick-nor-slow motion, Tsukki raised his arm again and opened the door without fanfare. Tadashi heart stopped: he had the perfect view of its contents from where he sat, and there was nothing unusual in there at all… other than Tsukki’s pristinely folded clothes, a pink envelope, and a gold orb the size of a tennis ball.

Tadashi’s mind went completely silent. Now was not the time for ANY Thoughts comparing himself to potential Tsuitors or shameful feelings of inadequacy. Nope; it was time to Listen and Observe. The panic attack can come later _(after the shower and the ten-year nap, of course)_

 _Should I be smiling? Is this a good thing?_ Tsukki wasn’t smiling as he gingerly picked up the ball and envelope. Tadashi’s eyes tracked them as they were placed on the bench. With great care and deliberation, Tsukki likewise packed his clean clothes into his laundry bag – _wait what? You’re not gonna wear those Tsukki?_ – shut Locker 15, and sat down.

“Yamaguchi,” he said quietly, addressing the letter from his secret admirer.

Tadashi swallowed. Speaking was out of the question right now. _Who is it??_

Tsukki flipped the envelope over and began to tear it open along the top, still not making any eye contact. That was probably for the best; Tadashi had no idea what kind of face he might be making right now. 

_You’re reading the letter. The letter from your secret admirer. Right now. Right in front of me. This is a private moment. You’re including me in it._ Tadashi felt sick; this… this felt so _intimate_ and _important_ and also so, so gut-wrenchingly _inevitable_. 

They must have written actual paragraphs inside; Tsukki was still reading and radiating downright Odd Vibes. Tadashi couldn’t tear his eyes away.

It was as though Tsukki had asked, and the very Universe had bent itself to his will. Someone – _in one of their classes? On the team?? A complete stranger???_ – had looked at Tsukkishima Kei and decided that he seemed like he would appreciate one Chocolate Orange, of all the chocolates in the world. _Silly, sharable chocolates for the serious, solitary Tsukki._

The world’s luckiest guesser, or the new uncontested expert on Tsukishima Kei?

Tsukki reached the end and let out a huff. His hand came up to squeeze the bridge of his nose. _Is that a normal reaction for finding out who your soulmate is?_

“…”

Tsukki glanced up to meet Tadashi’s eyes for a heartbeat before bending and rereading the whole thing. 

“…”

Deep breath. Compose yourself. Even though _those are_ _the words of someone who knows you better than I do._

“……”

Deep breath. Try again. _God I hate suspense just tell me already_

“… It’s signed ‘ _Sherlock Holmes_.’”

 _What are the odds,_ Tadashi wondered distantly, _o_ _f randomly referring to the two people who are in love with you as ‘Sherlock Holmes’ within the same half hour?_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> STEP RIGHT UP PLACE YOUR BETS HERE FOLKS WE HAVE LIKE FIVE WHOLE CHARACTERS TO CHOOSE FROM
> 
> (my money's on Carbon Monoxide Amnesiac Yamaguchi, myself)


	7. Chapter 7

“Haha,” Tadashi breathed. His brain had powered down for everyone’s safety. There weren’t any words available, so he wasn’t even bothering to search for them. The best he could do, when presented with the most intense moment in their entire friendship, was a pathetic, nervous chuckle.

_I’m not getting out of this one alive. I’m gonna be awkward, and Tsukki’s never going to trust me again._

Tsukki still hadn’t looked up at him again. Was he surprised? Quietly overjoyed? Had he totally forgotten his best friend already? There was no use speculating what could be going on in his clever mind; Tadashi had failed to deduce the first solution, even given three years – _even given the answer_. He even had a whole Spiral Notebook dedicated just to cracking the riddle. All of those nights of obsessing, and he felt no closer to understanding how Tsukki came up with it. How, then, could he possibly hope to guess how his friend was processing the information that his great puzzle had been solved by some Anonymous Player 3?

_Yes, Dr. Watson, could you cancel my 10:00 panic attack sesh tomorrow? An urgent Bawling Event just came up and I’m afraid I’ll be quite booked for the next ten years._

Tadashi watched his friend deposit the earth-shattering items into the smallest pocket of his bag, stomach sinking along with them as they disappeared from view. Silence descended upon them both.

Tsukki performed a Very Slow Glasses Readjustment. Still processing. Still deciding what to say. _Not how to answer the letter; he’s got to say yes. Why do I feel like_ I"M _about to be rejected right now ahhhh_

“Yamaguchi.” Tadashi felt himself straighten up; he hadn’t expected Tsukki to sound so resolved.

“Yep?”

Tsukki slung his bag over his shoulder but didn’t stand up. Not yet. “I don’t have the faintest clue who this is.” As he finished speaking, a wry smile came over his mouth. _You’re trying not to look frustrated. You only do that when you really are frustrated. Caught you again, Tsukki._

Tadashi somehow wrangled his muscles into a sympathetic expression and kind of nose-exhaled. He had less than no words; he had a Word Deficit. He could feel the differential pressure between the number of Expected Words and his dangerously empty word reservoir creating a vacuum in his throat. It really hurt. Any moment now someone was going to notice and ask him if he needed to lie down. 

Nobody did, though, and somehow he found himself numbly putting the broom away. A minute later, the two of them were noiselessly making their way across the empty courts and into the open air. They were walking through the campus. They were on the sidewalk that led to Tsukki’s home.

At last: “You know you’re much better with people than I am,” Tsukki mentioned to the evening air.

_That’s a compliment. Wait, no, that’s why you wanted me to weed through your Tsuitors for you._

“What have you been working out about Sherlock, Yamaguchi?” _C’mon not fair._ It is scientifically impossible not to answer a direct question from Tsukki. Unfortunately, Romeo over there was about to be pretty disappointed with the reply. Ghostly sentences rose up from the Word Graveyard that was Tadashi’s throat: horrible, ugly, bleeding words like _“Nothing, I’ve been too preoccupied being heartbroken.”_ and _“Maybe you should leave me alone and go find your precious Sherlock yourself.”_

 _Nah._ He couldn’t do that to Tsukki. _I’m probably being too quiet, so he assumed I was lost in thought._

Tadashi bit his lip. _I need to stall._ “I’ve never told anyone… so, I don’t know who it is, either, but…”

He had Tsukki’s full attention. He ignored it, for the safety of his fragile, fragile self.

Good ol’ Past Tadashi came in clutch. A painstakingly drawn flowchart he had created at least a year and a half ago was summoned before his mind’s eye. _At this stage…_ “There are only five types of people who could have.” That was definitely a fact: The Green Envelope Incident, involving two orange-flavored squares within a box of assorted chocolates, had him scrutinizing this exact (well, close enough) scenario for logical fallacies for months.

“Two of them are irrelevant because you don’t know who it is. That leaves three possibilities,” _Actually, maybe the reason I haven’t been trying to figure out Sherlock’s identity right now was because Past Tadashi put in all the legwork already. Oh, right, it’s signed Sherlock so that means…_

“The first one is ridiculous. Someone randomly chose a chocolate orange for absolutely no reason _and_ randomly decided to nickname themself Sherlock. For, like, an unrelated reason.” _Tsukki’s been thinking too, and no one has come to mind, so it’s definitely not a real name or anything._ “I think that’s astronomical. No way.”

Tsukki’s head bobbed up and down in his peripheral vision. Tadashi was barely aware of their surroundings at this point. It felt like every ounce of himself was running on fumes, yet his desire not to lose face even now drove him to explaining the rest of the diagram.

“God knows the odds on the next one. Someone’s been studying and learning about you –” _try not to make it too creepy, this is Tsukki’s significant other you’re talking about here Tadashi,_ “– and they figured the whole thing out just like Sherlock freakin’ Holmes. Amazing. Maybe you know them really well, or maybe you’ve got a stalker.” _Whoopsies so unkind of me~_

“The last one is – it’s – I’m gonna say it’s the most likely one. Again, someone’s gotten to know you really well and knew to go with the C.O.” Too late, Tadashi realized he’d given away how he was literally just reciting off a memorized graphical aid. Was there any chance at all that Tsukki would assume Tadashi had organically abbreviated it in his mind? He soldiered on regardless. “But, they didn’t realize that was your deciding factor. Umm and then they signed as Sherlock as, like, a flirtatious thing.” _That’s right: a ‘flirtatious thing’. Stick to reading off the cards next time, idiot._

“They all sound basically the same,” drawled Tsukki. Blunt, but genuine.

“They, Tsukki, they’re –” Tadashi heard his voice break on the rocks of the hard, hard truth. “They’re really not, though,” he finished quietly. One “Sherlock Holmes” was a malicious meddler; a Moriarty who just wanted to play games, motivation unknown. The other was _“Sherlock, get it? Because I’m so good at geometry proofs Tsukishima-san!” How can Tsukki really not see any difference? How has he_ never cared _about what type_ _of person he’s going to go out with???_

“Hmmm…” Tsukki had an unconvinced air about him. There were clearly lots of things he wanted to say. There were also lots of things Tadashi did not want him to say. “So. You’ve narrowed it down to literally anybody.”

 _You’re completely wrong._ But there was no convenient flowchart explaining exactly _how_ Tadashi had eliminated, say, Kageyama as neither a Moriarty nor a Flirty Sherlock, so he just shrugged. _I’m so tired Tsukki. My throat really hurts. Think if I start fake-coughing now, you’ll let me off the hook for skipping school tomorrow, Tsukki?_

They walked in silence for several yards. Some government worker had spraypainted hieroglyphics across this stretch of sidewalk ages ago, and Tadashi had always wondered what those arrows and snippets of words were meant to mean. There were little daisies growing up from between the cracks in the curbside.

“Does anyone come to mind, though?” It was actually pretty unusual for Tsukki to pry this much. _Is he surprised that I’m not excited to solve this with him?_

Tadashi bit his lower lip and shook his head no, probably not looking very convincing at all. It was doubtless written all over his face: someone _did_ come to mind – had been called to his mind’s eye the moment he considered the Moriarty scenario. Moriarty, the Intelligent, Dangerous, Confident stranger; the one who was interested in unraveling Tsukki’s secrets; the one who Tadashi was innately wary of already: _Kuroo. Kuroo or Kenma._ _Please,_ please _let it be anyone in the world other than one of them. Please let it be someone in our classes. Let it be a totally random stranger, even._

They were only five minutes away from Tsukki’s house now. The distance between Tadashi and sweet, sweet Alone Time felt practically infinite. With any luck, the conversation was ov-

“He used volleyball phrases in the letter,” Tsukki commented. There was an undertone of expectation here.

Tadashi didn’t respond. He didn’t think he was mentally capable of listing everyone on their own team right now, let alone calculating who this information ruled out. As they passed a rusty chain-link fence, he hazily envisioned the tallest member of the girls’ volleyball team wearing a deerstalker hat and spiking a ball made out of roses over the top. 

He definitely did _not_ let a silky voice enunciating “ _Read Blocking”_ ricochet within his skull.

“He sounded like the second type you mentioned: the one who signed that way because he figured out the rule.” And _hell,_ did the words hit him like a punch to the heart.

Deep breath. Just try not to think of anything at all. The next car to pass them was driven by a dangerous, volleyball-spinning genius.

“Yamaguchi, did you see anyone on the team go near the locker before I came in?”

Some strange part of him had apparently invested way, way too deeply into the Sherlock metaphor. _Moriarty wants_ you _to figure out their identity, not me! Asking me is cheating!_

“Was it Asahi?” _What._

 _WAIT WHAT_?!?!

Tadashi heard himself let out a hysterical laugh-sigh as he looked incredulously away from an unmarked parked sedan. Tsukki peered down at him, face dark with shadows in the fading light. _You’re hopeless,_ Tadashi mentally addressed him, overcome with fond exasperation, _How could you_ possibly _think_ Asahi _is like Moriarty?_

Hold on. How could _Moriarty_ possibly think _Tsukki_ would figure this out? Tsukki was smart in a classroom, I-know-everything-about-lizards sort of way; he was always the first person you’d expect to ace a test or solve a riddle, but the last person you’d go to for actual social advice. He picked out minute details, not broad strokes of personalities, as ammunition for those trademark tongue-in-cheek observations…

Part of his mind careened down a very dangerous track indeed. What were the odds of Tsukki figuring this out on his own? They had to be horrible. He was considering literally anyone with volleyball knowledge a suspect right now. Nekoma players would be at the bottom of the list, circumstantially speaking. _If I just walk away now, if I don’t give you a single hint, then… but wouldn’t that make me the worst friend ever?_ _I’d pretty much be lying, right? And for what, just to purposefully prevent you from getting a boyfriend and being happy?_

 _GAH_ but on the OTHER other hand, hadn’t Tsukki been supposedly relying upon Tadashi’s judgement for these people in the first place? And Tadashi really, really didn’t like or approve of Kuroo; would just saying so cross some sort of line?? But what if the only reason he didn’t like Kuroo in the first place was _because_ of his interest in Tsukki?

Would it ever be okay to keep this big, this important of a secret from his best friend? Tadashi didn’t know; he didn’t think he had it in him to either lie or reveal the truth.

As he struggled to breathe, struggled to decide, a background 15% of his brain was further overloading his computing processes with information about Asahi. _Current Tstatus: Suspect Until Proven Otherwise_. Complete b.s., of course, if not due to his personality then definitely for what Tadashi had realized in today’s practice. The ace was head-over-heels for a certain second-year libero. _Oh man oh no if I skip practice tomorrow he’s totally gonna blame it on himself he’ll think I’m a huge homophobe and hate me forever noooo_

Maybe he had been quiet for a bit too long: Tsukki’s eyes were widening.

Tadashi forced himself to shake his head and tell the vaguest version of the truth possible. “Asahi… is the only person on the team you can be 100% sure it wasn’t from.” _Other than me._ As he spoke, he became cognizant of some deep foundation crumbling within him; felt acutely aware that his entire mental structure wasn’t going to be able to hold itself together. The excess load of stress exuded tension into his shoulders, his fists, his throat, his _lungs_. _I can’t do this._ _I have to go_. 

“Tadashi?”

_…..yeh?...._

“Hey, I’m – I was – I’m sorry……for…” Tsukki’s steps stuttered to a stop, and through glazed eyes Tadashi numbly registered that Tsukki was having a Lot of Bad Feelings. The taller teenager made a frustrated noise. _How long has his hand been on my arm?_

Tadashi could _literally_ _see_ Tsukki’s house. _BAIL NOW,_ instructed his sanity. 

“Let’s talk about it, Saturday, ‘kay, Tsukki.” He had certainly meant to sound somewhat normal - maybe gentle, or firm… but his words instead came out with choked defeat. It was a miracle that he had managed to make any sound at all. _Keep it together for one more minute._

“… Today’s Thursday.”

Deep breath. Start walking. Drag your childhood buddy along until he drops hold of your arm. Even then, Tsukki lagged behind a little; Tadashi was speedwalking to their destination.

“Uhhh I was gonna tell you earlier,” Tadashi found his gaze transfixed on the Tsukkishima mailbox, vision severely compromised by the way his lower eyelids were holding back tears. Through gulps of air, he managed tightly, “I can’t come. Tomorrow. Cause. With Asahi. Today. Itwas. Bad.” _Good ENOUGH get out of here_

And he did. He went off-script and left Tsukki behind him, stalking shakily into the blurry sunset.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *Don't like the grammar? Pretend a poet wrote this. Don't like poets, either? Great! I'm actually an engineer! Join me on this foray outside my wheelhouse and quit yer whinin already


	8. Chapter 8

Or… well, that had been the plan. It turned out that Tsukki was less easily fooled than Tadashi gave him credit for. He hadn’t even made it to the other end of the Tsukkishima lawn when a shadow fell into his eyes and a hand encircled his wrist.

“Hey,” Tsukki sounded almost as out of breath as Tadashi was, “I promised.”

_…what?_

“I promised myself, next time you had one of these, I’d…” Tsukki looked so lost, “I’d be there. I’d help.”

Deep brea – nope, just lots of shallow ones. OH. _One of these. Oh. It’s an anxiety attack._ He had never had one outside of his room before, actually. It felt surreal for all-too-familiar blankness to hit him while purple-pink clouds and the first starry pinpricks of white light adorned an open sky above them. His own breathing was all-consuming: shaky and chaotic in his own ears. He glanced down at his own arm and watched it tremble, knocking his wrist against Tsukki’s long fingers.

Tadashi’s body, and not his brain, was in full control now. This was invariably what happened when his stress levels reached their limits: his thoughts were wrested away for his own safety, leaving him locked up to passively experience the fallout. He couldn’t really have said where they were, or what had put them here. His mind was utterly devoid of anything outside of sensory absorption.

It felt terrifying.

The empty street ahead of them; the sparkling grass and sprinkler puddles to their right; the distant sound of a child crying; it… it was Too Much. Way too much. Tadashi usually rode these times out curled up under blankets, or folded underneath his desk. Practically subconsciously, he leaned towards the iron wall of Karasuno for protection.

The human wall provided. Blues and pinks were swapped out for pure, comforting blackness as his face was pressed gently into Tsukki’s chest. Arms enveloped him, and a hand cradled the back of his head. His rapid breaths brought in familiar smells, and his whole body seemed to vibrate alongside a deep, quiet voice.

Maybe it was that voice, or maybe it was being outside, or maybe it was that his mind began to sort itself out the second it forgot about its conundrum: the anxiety attack didn’t last very long at all, and he didn’t even cry. It could only have been a few minutes: maybe five, tops, before he was on the other side of it. He was feeling drained, but much better. His breathing began to even out, and cognitive abilities started coming back online.

Deep breath now. Nice.

Another deep breath. Tsukki gave his shoulders a small squeeze, and he became conscious of the cautious weight of Tsukki’s chin resting itself on the top of his head. After a second, the weight disappeared, only to be replaced by the lightest sensation in the same place. As though Tsukki had just carefully kissed his forehead?

“You…do you think you should be alone?” A soft voice murmured from above.

 _Should be? No idea._ But, nestled within familiar, protective arms, Tadashi knew what he _wanted_ , so he shook his head from side to side – carefully, as if too much enthusiasm would somehow cause Tsukki to retract the offer.

“Okay, let’s get you home then. I’ve got clothes; I’ll spend the night. And we can take the day off of school tomorrow together, ‘kay, Yamaguchi?”

 _Aw,_ the return of a classic. Tadashi had thought “ _‘kay, Yamaguchi?”_ had been laid to rest sometime in middle school. It had been, incidentally, around the time that the names _Kei Yamaguchi_ and _Tadashi Tsukishima_ had made their first, dreamy appearances in his thoughts. He wondered if Tsukki could feel him crack open his eyes and smile through his rough gym shirt.

As they started to pull away from the hug, Tsukki leaned back in just for a moment, and the barely-there sensation on his head repeated itself. Definitely there. Definitely a kiss.

 _Huh._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Nothing grates on my nerves more than fake dialogue, so 100% of our all-natural spoken lines have been delivered to my Pet! Only those which received a blank, unending stare into the void are written in! Nothing but the best for you, my hypothetical reader <3


	9. Chapter 9

Tadashi’s parents welcomed Tsukki into the house as though he were their very own Prodigal Son, returning back to them after months instead of just a few days. Almost as if in direct contrast to the Intense AttentionTM their own son received from the Tsukkishimas, they had always showered him with over-the-top, embarrassing levels of affection. Tadashi had a Very Strict Five-Minute limit on the amount of time he could be left alone with Tsukki’s parents, yet felt absolutely no regrets about immediately abandoning his friend with his own in their living room. _You know you love them, Tsukki._

“Ah – let Kei-kun grab the futon from the closet first, dear,” realized his mom. Great point; both teens nodded and made their way down the hallway together. The distant sounds of Dad making popcorn fell behind them.

Tadashi was so tired. With bleary eyes, he fished out the extra futon from the hall closet and hugged it to his chest. He didn’t pass it off to Tsukki yet, though: even in his exhausted state, he recognized that this was it: the last moment they had together of the day. Tsukki looked like there was something he wanted to say. _Best to ease into it._

“Thanks, Tsukki."

“No, I’m… I’m sorry it was a Bad Day for you.”

“… yeah.”

“…”

In the dim light of the secluded hallway, Tadashi watched Tsukki’s eyes rove off to fixate on his room’s door. Definitely something on his mind, something difficult to say. It would be worth the wait.

“I’m sorry I made it worse.” Tadashi immediately opened his mouth to protest, but Tsukki cut him off: “And I don’t… I really, don’t know if this is part of it at all. I … need you to know that …”

“…”

“I still couldn’t care less about who it is, Yamaguchi.” _Well, yeah._ All that buildup just for the obvious, stated with so much apathy. Tadashi nodded. Tsukki looked to be in physical pain as he tried again.

“You know it won’t be your fault, if we don’t solve who it is.” _LIES that is literally the opposite from the truth wait hold on,_ this must be Tsukki’s roundabout way of assessing what triggered the attack! Tadashi did his best to arrange his face into something like reassurance and nodded again. 

“Everything would also be completely fine, if you do figure it out.” _No, it isn’t. Keeping it from you is still wrong._ “Wouldn’t change anything.” _Yes it – oh._

Of course, even if the Sherlock letter remained unsolved, Moriarty would keep leaving clues, or eventually show up in person. Kuroo’s arrival in their personal lives was just a matter of time, and Tsukki, bound by his self-imposed rule, was all but resigned to his fate. If only Tadashi hadn’t had the day he had just gone through; if only he had the moral fiber to make a quick decision and stubbornly stand by it like Hinata would in this moment: he would say something like, _I_ have _solved it, and it’s Kuroo and I’m sorry but I can’t stand him and please say no even though he’s your cool friend and soulmate._

“…”

 _Augh_ he couldn’t do it; he just couldn’t squeak the words out of his throat. Tsukki was trying to make him feel better, and saying something like that would risk starting the biggest Conflict they had ever had. 

“…” Tsukki looked sad and worried. Tadashi realized he had forgotten to respond in any way whatsoever to the last statement. Better say something; better yet, better say something super honest to offset this egregious deceit.

“Tsukki,” _Great start, what are you gonna say now,_ “I think you should make the decision based on how you feel aboutttt –” _CLOSE CALL,_ screamed his brain; _NICE SAVE!_ cheered his tongue, “ _them._ You know, you can…” Deeeep breath, “You should turn Sherlock down if you want to, Tsukki.” _Please, please, wake up and be normal about this!_

Tsukki smiled a tiny bit and took the futon. “I will.” And as if he could hear Tadashi’s thoughts, he added, “I promise.”

But his eyes kept searching Tadashi’s, forehead wrinkled and expression bothered. It was probably showing all over his face: they may have just dodged the first bullet labeled Boyfriend Kuroo, but it hadn’t really done anything to quell the rest of the battle still being fought in his mind.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *Shrugs*  
> People be complicated, yo


	10. Chapter 10

The experience of waking up approximately 10 hours after saying goodnight to Tsukki was _so_ unpleasant that Tadashi nearly called off the entire attempt. His head had developed a dull throb; his shoulders were sore to the bone; his eyelids were puffy and crusted in gooey residue. He felt wholly wrung out and hungover.

_You’re dehydrated. Getup up up._

He didn’t, but it was a good effort all around.

He checked his phone: 7:14AM

_UGH_

Muffled ambient noises filtered through his door: a percolating coffee pot, the closing of the refrigerator door, and his dad’s morning radio station talking through today’s headlines. The sounds ignited the concept of _starvation_ in his core because _you skipped dinner last night idiot_

He lay there for a few more minutes, dozing in and out of consciousness, regardless. It was an awful habit he usually reserved for the weekends, this act of procrastinating life in general. He didn’t want to get up; didn’t want to feel the cold bathroom tile under his feet, or put on a happy face for his parents, or find out how the rest of today was going to turn out. He just wanted nothing to happen at all.

Maybe half an hour later, a loud knocking brought him back to wakefulness.

“Hey bud, Mom and I are taking off,” Dad said, at normal volume, through the door, “There’s some _shady-looking kid_ in our kitchen –” the distant sound of Tsukki snorting rang down the hall, “– so you’d better get up if you want any food!”

Tadashi closed his eyes one more time and groaned loudly. _Message received._

“Love you, kiddo. Feel better soon and give us a call if you need anything.”

“Thanks Dad,” Tadashi said, “Love you, too.”

The floorboards squeaked to signal his Dad’s retreat, and Tadashi sighed and forced himself out from his blanket nest. How many times in his life had he been motivated to wake up just by the sole thought of not letting Tsukki down? How many times, even when his best friend _wasn’t_ waiting on him in his kitchen, was he the first thought of the day?

Washing his hands in the bathroom, he looked into his own reflected face and realized that he really didn’t know. _It must be almost a year since the last time Tsukki slept over._ That last time had been awkward as hell: Tsukki had been practically out of the door at 11:30, insisting he’d be coming back first thing in the morning, until Tadashi’s parents had pressured him into taking the spare futon into the study. Since then, they’d been slowly spending less and less time in each other’s bedrooms, to the point where Tadashi usually fell asleep on the Tsukkishima couch, and Tsukki still hadn’t seen the new shag rug Tadashi got for Christmas.

Tadashi gave his room one clean sweep anyways, just in case. He hastily made his bed and dropped his journals into the depths of his desk drawer.

Just as he was finishing up, footsteps approached down the hall. Tsukki’s knock was a million times gentler than his Dad’s had been. They had never been in _this_ situation before, either: Tsukki on one side of a white door, potentially thinking that Tadashi might be sleeping or undressed on the other.

“Hey, er, come in,” Tadashi said hastily, before Tsukki could either ask or announce his intention to leave.

The knob turned and Tsukki entered slowly. He had a cup of milky coffee in one hand and a napkin with two slices of toast in the other. “Brought you this,” he said softly. _So domestic._ Tadashi grinned as he noticed his friend immediately get distracted by the flat, fluffy TARDIS taking up the center of the floorspace. _And so predictable._

“Thanks, Tsukki!” There was a quick tradeoff, and Tadashi silently sent a second thanks to his usual lucky stars for his undiscriminating, all-inclusive anxiety as their hands brushed: the blush would just be written off as normal Yamaguchi behavior. It wasn’t his fault that his parents had given Tsukki these green dinosaur pajamas, or that Tadashi happened to be wearing his matching yellow ones today. All it meant was that they were really comfortable, okay?

The two of them settled down on the blue rug, with Tadashi sitting cross-legged a few feet in front of his dresser and Tsukki mirroring his posture across from him, in front of the bed. His room was starting to brighten with the morning sun, which brought out the deep sapphire lining Tsukki’s irises and the maroon hues of his comforter. Tsukki’s bag lie next to his own on their left, on the floorboards by the desk: an uplifting reminder that they were currently playing hooky to an entire school day. Comfortable silence, broken only by muffled birdsong and the crunching of toast, reinforced the message that today ought to be relaxed and easy.

The longer they sat there, however, the less peaceful Tsukki’s face grew. His fingers eschewed absentmindedly tracing the blue and black swirling patterns beneath them for aggressively hooking onto long fibers instead. His eyes narrowed, sharp and focused, at his prey, and his shoulders began to tense up. _Hold up, I’ve seen you look like this before, haven’t I?_ Tadashi squinted at his friend, as though doing so would help him pull the matching image from his mental filing cabinet faster.

Luckily, Tskukki held the expression for several lengthy minutes, lost deep within his turbulent thoughts. Tadashi munched extra-slowly on his breakfast. Who knew whether the sound might alert his friend back to reality and erase the Strange Expression? Recollections were coming piecemeal to him: those stormy brows had made their appearance on the court right before Tsukki moved to intercept Kenma; that off-to-the-side scowl had been there in the locker room yesterday _oh_ and also right after Afterschool Confessions of the B.C.O. days.

It was really similar to those faces, just… this one right now came accompanied with balled-up fists.

“What does that look mean…?”

Tsukki breathed in deeply and the very look in question vanished into thin air. “I need to know something. I don’t know if asking it is the right thing to do though.” His words were tight and clipped in… anger?

… _What a dangerous way to start a conversation._ All due caution was necessary, but curiosity was a hell of a drug.

“What is it? Go for it,” he was saying before his brain had time to formulate a more diplomatic course of action.

“Asahi.” Tsukki spat the name out immediately through gritted teeth, but then hesitated to gauge Tadashi’s reaction. He received none: Tadashi was totally prepared to share about the Nishinoya crush, if that was what was being called for.

“Tadashi, did he _touch_ you?” Absolute fury laced through the words.

 _“Wha – no!”_ The insinuation sunk in: “NO!!!” _WHAT IN THE HECK WHAT DO YOU HAVE AGAINST ASAHI-SAN?!_ Tadashi’s hands were waving wildly in front of his face, and he could hear his own continued sputtering filling up the room. Tsukki’s shoulders slumped down as though their strings had been cut.

“God. Sorry, so sorry Yamaguchi.”

“ _Whyyyyyyy??_ ” Tadashi was wailing; his mind was cranking every gear available to convert this disaster into a Tease Embarrassed Tsukki moment and COMPLETELY IGNORE the crazy-dark implications that were freewheeling around the room. This was – this was _not_ territory they had even come close to toeing before! They watched Animal Planet and SciFi shows together, not Law & Order, for God’s sake!

“I just – it was the only thing that came to mind.” Tsukki had turned his head fully to one side in a close approximation of True Shame that nonetheless failed to hide how relieved he was feeling. Oddly touched, Tadashi felt his face heat up. _My Knight in Shining Armor over here,_ a Very Forbidden portion of his mind cooed.

 _ANYWAYS, of course_ we all know that Tsukki is observant and caring. It made sense that he would latch onto Tadashi’s last coherent sentence before his anxiety attack: " _Asahi. Today. Itwas. Bad.”_ Who knew those words could be so horribly misinterpreted?

And _dang it Tadashi why are you like this_ he had gone and lapsed into silence, despite knowing that he was responsible for keeping up a steady stream of questions he didn’t expect answers for. Tsukki snuck a glance his way and, _oh this is bad,_ began turning pink too. Tadashi's mouth finally remembered what it was supposed to be doing and provided the next soundbite: “ _Why_ would you think… that… Tsukki…” UGH it came out all stumbling and wrong-footed; worse, when paired with the silence preceding it, it sounded like an _actual_ question, one that pressed _into_ the awkwardness instead of pulling away.

Tsukki pursed his lips, but flatly demurred, “We can’t all be geniuses like you, Yamaguchi.”

Tadashi smiled shyly. The conversation had been saved: the sun was throwing refracted rays onto his ceiling and across faded Pokémon posters on his walls; patterned T-Rexes adorned the dark green collar of Tsukki’s PJs; topic now closed, their day could continue on as normal.

But… should it? Tadashi crumpled up his napkin and dropped it into the trashcan next to his dresser, feeling as though… _well, isn't there something that needs to be said here?_ That was a pretty major misunderstanding; it was too bizarre that it had just happened between _them._

“Nah, I’m just as bad as you. I thought for sure there was a rat in your locker yesterday!” Yeah, why not. Why not delve into a whole Pandora’s Box worth of emotional stuff while your best friend is sitting right in front of you? _What could possibly go wrong?_

Tsukki rested his chin on his raised knee and smiled back, looking pensive. “Yeah, what was that about? It was only _this_ ,” The Chocolate Orange appeared from his pocket. _What_ – had he been carrying it around with him like some sort of bad luck charm all morning??

The smile abruptly slipped off of his friend's face, “But yeah, that’s exactly how I felt. You…” he paused gloomily, as though searching for permission to continue, “Can always tell. Everything. About everyone, without even trying. You’re like a mind reader: you’re amazing, Yamaguchi.” _Ha._ _If only you knew how wrong you are._ He bitterly noticed that miscellaneous bits of trash and dust had apparently been hiding away from the broom a few inches into the space under the bed. _  
_

“Don’t –” Tsukki started to say, before quickly biting the words back and continuing on his original train of thought. “I’m not. And what happened yesterday – I dunno. I wish I could tell what was going on, what you were thinking. What was the trigger, what could I have done.”

Hearing those self-depreciating words, paired with a visibly dejected Tsukki, _should_ have dropped a stone into the pit of Tadashi’s stomach. Being the source of Tsukki’s unhappiness was _supposed_ to do that. It should have, but it didn’t, this time; instead, he felt as though a decade-heavy rock was being lifted _off_ of his shoulders.

It was as though he was seeing his childhood friend as more _human_ than he ever had before, _okay make sure you never voice that one aloud Tadashi._ Tsukki was supposed to be the genius, and Tadashi was the one always in the dark. Today, though, they were both just sitting in a hazily lit bedroom together, and the potential for shedding light on everything as a team was solid and real.

“Tsukki, I feel the same way about you, a lot of the time,” Tadashi confessed, “Maybe we don’t talk enough? You’re… complicated,” Tsukki huffed disbelievingly, because he was a genius but also an idiot, “It’d be better if we just asked, right, instead of trying to guess what’s going on in each other’s heads all the time, haha”

It felt brave and new and strange, saying something like that ten years into their friendship, but it also felt like the natural trajectory of a path that _Tsukki_ had started them on, all that time ago, when he brought up the Chocolate Orange Rule in the first place. They were both different versions of themselves now: they had transitioned into a new school, had competed and won and lost, had hugged in the open street at sunset yesterday. They were high schoolers, and they were growing up. Tsukki didn’t shut himself away like he might once have in response. Instead, his eyes sparkled as if to say, _Okay, Yamaguchi. Let’s try it out now, shall we?_

Tsukki leaned forward, clutching the ever-mystifying sweet in his hands. They were going to play a two-man game of Truth or Dare at eight o’ clock in the morning, and they were going to start it off lightheartedly.

“I call _b.s._ ,” Tsukki began with a playfully supercilious confidence, “You know everything about me. Name _one_ _thing_ that you want me to explain.”

Tadashi saw an opportunity to redeem himself and took it with flirtatious ease: “What, exactly, do you have against my buddy Asahi?”

Tsukki had seen it coming from a mile away, of course: “He looks like a delinquent college dropout,” came the deadpan. The real answer followed shortly with an _adorable_ head tilt. “You’re so nervous about being alone with him. I thought - you didn’t trust him?” This really wasn't a well-trodden line of speech for the two of him, which made the blunt words sound even more genuine.

“No, I think he's cool! He’s just so anxious that it makes _me_ anxious!” Tadashi exclaimed. He hoped that made sense; apparently, he was looking pretty incredulous, because Tsukki literally winced before defending his statement. 

“Then, yesterday, Nishinoya kept trying to check up on you guys in practice…”

 _Yesterday, yikes._ Maybe dramatizing the second-hand embarrassment would made it more bearable? “I _knooow:_ that made it so much _woorrse!_ They totally like each other, Tsukki!" Watching his friend's uncertainty morph into bemused amazement was a reward all on its own. "Yesterday was _really bad_ because it was super awkward!! That counted as your question, by the way; I know you were dying to ask how I eliminated him," he teased happily.

“Fine, you got me, Sherlock. Your turn again.” Tsukki drawled automatically.

 _Another thing I don’t understand._ Tadashi’s eyes were drawn immediately to the Chocolate Orange. Welp. What a turn this was going to be.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here's the Dealio: YamaTsukki has the Highest Angst of All Possible OTPs because Tsukki can and will hide All of The Feelings, and Yamaguchi CANNOT, BUT Tadashi is literally so anxious around everyone that no one can tell the difference??!? Because that is IT. That's the fulcrum upon which this entire plot rests. In this essay, I will....


	11. Chapter 11

“Okay, then…” Deep, deliberate breath. He could be brave; he could ask the same Category One question that had been weighing on his mind for the past three years. It wasn’t even out of nowhere; the aggravating item was _right there_.

“Why chocolate oranges, Tsukki?” _Actually, that’s not good enough_ , “Why the entire Chocolate Orange Rule? I’ve… never understood any of it.”

Tsukki straightened up and swallowed, clearly sensing that he wasn’t getting away without an answer this time. “You’re kidding. You know - youhaveto know by now.”

Well, the game had been fun while it lasted. Tadashi might as well get started on the Dare of digging his own grave now. _Fraud,_ the headstone would read. 

“Maybe. I want to hear it from _you_ , though,” he managed, as if he could possibly save any face at this point.

But Tsukki really _, really_ didn’t want to answer. A second deflection as he fidgeted: “But… you said that the person who sent me _this -"_ the golden ball of foil gave a little hop in his hand "-'figured me out’…?”

Goddammit. Hating himself, Tadashi bared the depths of his own inadequacy for all to see: “Yeah, _he_ did. I… haven’t, though.”

 _Go on. Say it. Say that they’re the most unromantic chocolates in the world. Say you thought it would be funny. Say you hoped it would never happen. Say they remind you of something, or that they’re ironic like you, or that they’re really,_ really _delicious. SAY IT._

In his mind, Tadashi had thought he had imagined hearing it all.

The stiffest Glasses Readjustment Tadashi had ever seen was occurring. Three fingers, pressed so hard against Tsukki’s nose that the skin blushed white in their tracks, hid his mouth as he exhaled; even more telling, he shifted his posture uncomfortably, tucking his legs in and coming to rest on both knees. UnreadableTM Tsukki made a cameo appearance, only to melt away into a face of tortured insecurity a second later.

“It.... didn’t have to be chocolate oranges. I dunno why I chose that, they’re… kind of random.” The words fell into air, reverberating off of the same walls that had witnessed countless hours of Spiral Notebooking in vain. Surely nothing and no one alive could comprehend them. The riddlemaker _himself_ was on his knees and unable to provide the answer. _Random._

“…”

 _What the HELL do you mean, RANDOM?!_

“…”

 _You didn’t_ seriously _set this all up as an experiment, did you Tsukki? Tell me you don’t_ actually _believe in some kind of Fate thing that works like this. I KNOW YOU I know you better than anyone and you don’t believe in things like that!!_

“……”

 _TELL ME WHAT YOU MEAN._ Tadashi looked his best friend dead in the eyes and waited with ferocious determination.

Finally, with great deliberation and slow enunciation: “It. Just. Had to be something that _only you_ would know.”

If Tadashi had been in Tsukki’s socks, he would've at least attempted to coherently explain; however, Tsukki remained on-brand and added nothing more. His pale face said, _“I’m waiting for you to figure it out.”_

It also said, _“I’m afraid, Yamaguchi.”_

The atmosphere was made of glass, and Tadashi subconsciously held his breath so as not to fog up the view. He felt at once as though he was looking out upon a familiar mystery, as unresolved as ever, yet also out at something unrecognizably, unbearably impossible. _No way._ Would a fourteen-year-old Tsukkishima Kei have given out a guaranteed Free Date card to his best friend, as a shy, failsafe means of encouraging that friend to use it? _That would be so clever and so stupid,_ Tadashi’s brain reprimanded everyone. This did nothing to prevent an entire basement’s worth of memories labeled “Unsorted Tsukki Affection” from seeping up through the floorboards of his skull: those meaningful looks, that kiss on the forehead yesterday...

 _No, stop, Tadashi, the whole "he wants to date someone with your blessing" theory still holds water,_ he desperately reminded himself. No one on earth would be able to physically force Tsukki to admit to such a thing aloud, if so. Tadashi briefly went to war with himself over a million ways to try, anyways; to find the words that would make his prideful friend confirm or deny it; to save his soul from being destroyed by the very possibility of an alternative.

But... oh man, asking _this_ type of clarification really would be an unprecedented, entirely foreign strain of conversation for them. It could actually ruin everything. He couldn't - he just _couldn't_ _._ He couldn't ask, and he needed to know.

In a moment of madness, his brain conjured up and immediately embarked upon the single course of action that didn't require the cooperation of his locked jaws or thunderously pounding heart. With one slow, telegraphed motion, Tadashi reached out - and plucked the orb from Tsukki’s hands. _Oh my god this is it. Turn back now or forever hold your peace-_

The rest of the world might well have disappeared completely, so intently was Tadashi focused on his friend. He could see the very shallow, quick rise and fall of his soft shirt; the way his wide eyes darted around the room, at Tadashi’s face, down to what was in his hands. He looked and he looked – and he saw nothing telling him not to act on his secretmost daydreams.

Tadashi was _actually holding_ a Chocolate Orange. He had never given himself permission to so much as touch the ones he’d seen in stores. He had never considered that you’d be able to feel the cracks through the thin foil, or that the shape would yield slightly after being pre-warmed by body heat. He was already here, terrified beyond words and clutching the oft-imagined passcode, so now he slowly, deliberately positioned it outward, silently proffering it to his best friend. He felt his own eyebrows raise in a question he would never be brave enough to ask out loud: it would be the end of their friendship. The smallest nonverbal gesture from Tsukki would turn his hands back inwards and erase this alternate future for good.

Then: “It’s you,” Tsukki breathed, “or no one else, for me, Yamaguchi.”

Slender fingers encased both Tadashi’s outstretched hands and the chocolate, but their eyes remained locked on one another's faces. There was only one way to interpret this, right? Tadashi’s brain was analyzing every centimeter of Tsukki’s anguished expression – it was saying, _“I mean it,” “Please believe me”, “I care so much about you.”_

The revelation hit him with its full force a second later, bringing wordless, astonished laughter bubbling up from within him. Tears of joy welled up in his eyes; he found himself nodding vigorously as they cleared, and heard Tsukki’s breath hitch, right before being forcefully exhaled. The gust of air blew warmly onto Tadashi’s face and bounced back to disturb specks of dust on glass lenses – they had both leaned in towards each other; they were so close now. Without looking away, Tadashi extricated his right hand and carelessly dropped the golden ball on the floor far off to his right side; with his left, he interlaced their fingers on top of his yellow, stegosaurus-clad knee and squeezed tight.

“ _Tsukki_ ,” he whispered, trying to catch his breath. It was like an anxiety attack, if they came in a variety that included fantastically happy heartbeats and joyfully trembling fingers. “Me, too.”

From inches away, Tsukki’s face was adopting the second brand-new expression of the day: lips and eyebrows twitched upwards, restless eyes portraying dawning relief but Dead Serious and Vulnerable vibes as well. His free hand rose and combed through Tadashi’s hair. The motion brought them even closer: electricity sparked up from the palm against his temple, from the kneecap grazing his own, from the thumb caressing his inner wrist. Tadashi’s mind was euphorically, uncharacteristically blank. For a few seconds, his best friend’s out-of-focus face took up his entire vision, and they rested with the sides of their noses flat against one another. He dimly registered what they were about to do, but couldn't seem to stop himself from grinning like an idiot. They were practically trading the same shaky, toast-scented air.

Tsukki broke their stillness by moving unexpectedly: he half-closed his eyes and slowly dragged his nose sideways across Tadashi’s cheekbone (glasses briefly prodding into his eyelid). The rest of his room was out-of-focus and unimportant: the only thing that mattered was the way Tsukki nuzzled their faces together; the roots of his hair being tightly pulled and twisted; the way shivers ran up his spine at unexpected contact to the shoulder; the sound of Tsukki desperately murmuring, “I love you, I love you so much, Tadashi”; the way he punctuated each breathless phrase with featherlight kisses to the side of his face.

Unwilled, a quiet, aching hum pulled away from his throat, seemingly beckoning Tsukki closer. Their joined hands were pushed towards Tadashi, causing the back of his left hand to slip from his kneecap and press flat against the rough-hewn rug. The fingers that had been in his hair disappeared, only to brush under his right arm and splay against his ribcage. His right wrist craned strangely where it still rested by the chocolate, so he hesitantly lifted it to his best friend’s shoulder blade; _amazing,_ how he must have hugged and pat the area a million times before but had never felt the muscle ripple and shift under his palm this way.

Without the support of his arm, he began to list backwards, and Tsukki had to press their intertwined hands _hard_ into the floor to reach over him even more and his inner right thigh _exploded_ with the sensations of Tsukki’s clothes rustling against his own and _wow wow wow_ he had never been so turned on in his life. Despite his grip on Tsukki’s shoulder, he felt himself still slowly leaning back under the mounting weight of the hand on his abs – only, his body wasn’t trying to move away: this was somehow an _invitation;_ this was _All yours,_ spoken through reclining, dropping shoulders; this was Z _ero resistance_ to the kneading palm guiding him downwards; this was _Yes, Tsukki, yes, it will always be yes, Tsukki_ as their faces began nodding rhythmically against each other; as though their bodies were singing in a language Tadashi didn’t know, yet innately understood. 

Tsukki’s breathy words dissolved into hot huffs against the shell of his ear that were like a thousand unspoken conversations; like the words _I want this I want you can you believe it I want you, Tadashi_ ; like quickening compressions straight to his heart; like misty horses racing to deliver everything he had never dared to dream of; like the ecstasy of life itself. His mind was trying to experience every tiny sensation, to memorize every touch involved in their slow embrace, to rediscover every synonym for _“amazing, fairy-tale, Tsukki”_ that it could. His mouth somehow found the boldness to _kiss_ Tsukki’s cheek, and it was allowed: Tsukki let him do that. _This is really happening._

Then his shoulder blades hit the wood of his dresser, and a strong arm constrained their intertwined hands firmly behind his back, and he was pinned, helpless, safe, and Tsukki’s shirt was exposing his throat, _God,_ his _collarbone_ , and Tsukki was _above him,_ was practically _crawling on top of him,_ was _in between_ his upturned legs, was _gorgeous_ and _doing things_ to his jawline and ribs that were making his cheeks blush and grip tighten and _oh god it was Too Much._ He couldn’t breathe. He never wanted it to end.

Struggling for air, coming undone under a rising, tensing tide of _want_ , he began tracing chaotic spirals down Tsukki’s back: and maybe they meant _“Closer”; “More”; “Please”;_ or maybe they meant _“I never knew anything could feel like this, Tsukki”_ ; but the only word he managed to breathe out onto the taut skin of Tsukki’s neck was “ _Tsukkishima.”_ Tsukki actually _whimpered_ into his ear and bore his weight down and he was _hard_ against his stomach and _wow God yes closer, closer_ heat was _everywhere_ and he was being compressed _up_ and _down_ against the dresser and his insides _squirmed_ and wet electricity erupted under his jaw and his gasp of _“Tsukki”_ made a deep voice react _“_ My Tad _ashi”_ so _goddamn_ brokenly and arms contracted around him and as they both breathed _faster_ and _faster_ his toes _curled_ and there was _lightning_ arcing through his spine and _wow please yes_ it wrenched out a sound he’d never made before, whereby they crashed together like a thunderstorm.

The motion disrupted the undulating rhythm of their embrace. The two of them – ever a dyad of nonverbal communicators – stilled, readjusting their holds on each other as they caught their breaths, created some space, loosened their painfully clasped fingers. He stroked light, meaningless lines down Tsukki’s back; Tsukki matched the gesture up along his.

Relax. Deep breaths. It was like the cooldown after a sprint, if there was a version of sprinting that involved more happiness than a human soul could possibly contain. _You love me back._ He tasted a tear track on Tsukki’s cheek, and Tsukki’s lips softly graced his forehead.

Deep breath. _We have all day,_ he realized giddily, _We have the rest of our lives._

Tsukki’s face found its way in front of his again, simultaneously more ethereal and more human than Tadashi had ever seen it, and this time they both beamed before meeting halfway for their first real kiss. _Finally._

To their side, the chocolate orange rolled away from the couple, forgotten.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Fin ^^  
> JK BUT WOULDN'T YOU BE PISSED?!  
> Uncover our Sherlock in the epilogue -->


	12. Chapter 12

“No, I spent the night at Yamaguchi’s,” Tsukki was stating apathetically into his phone.

“…”

“No kidding. For how long?”

“…”

“No.”

“Sleep on the couch, then.”

Tadashi smiled. He could pick out Tsukki’s banter with his brother from anywhere. Then, Tsukki went abruptly still, looking suspicious. “… why are you asking.”

“……”

“Oh. No, that was my locker. We wondered who it was from.”

“…”

“Yeah, yeah,” Tsukki intoned, “Real clever, Sherlock. Very funny.”

A pause. The two best friends exchanged looks. Then, the Question neither one of them had satisfactorily resolved: “Akiteru, why a chocolate orange?”

The reply made Tsukki nose-exhale and bow his head. He said a few more things to his brother, pressed the “End Call” button, then turned to Tadashi with the Answer to Life’s Greatest Mystery.

“Said it ‘Looks like a volleyball.’” He deadpanned.

Tadashi burst out laughing and pulled Tsukki back into his arms. “We are both such idiots.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Quarantine got me like.... Damn you, David Wong*, fine I'll produce a thing. There. Happy now? Now how many days left? AHHHH**  
> Remember to stay safe, stay sane, you readers! And thank you for flying Air Quarantime with me <3
> 
> *https://www.cracked.com/blog/6-harsh-truths-that-will-make-you-better-person/  
> **We are _all _the AntMan House Arrest Montage on this blessed ~~day~~ ~~month~~ year?__


End file.
